THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


UNIVERSITY  of 
AT 

L08-  ANGELES 
LIBRARY 


THIS  series  of  SCANDINAVIAN  CLASSICS  is  published 
by  The  American-Scandinavian  Foundation  in  the 
belief  that  greater  familiarity  with  the  chief  literary 
monuments  of  the  North  will  help  Americans  to  a 
better  understanding  of  Scandinavians,  and  thus  serve 
to  stimulate  their  sympathetic  cooperation  to  good  ends 


SCANDINAVIAN  CLASSICS 
VOLUME  VI 

MODERN  ICELANDIC 
PLAYS 


ESTABLISHED  BY 
NIELS     POULSON 


MODERN  ICELANDIC  PLAYS 

EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 
THE  HRAUN  FARM 

BY 

J6HANN  SIGURJ6NSSON 
3t 

TRANSLATED  BY 
HENNINGE   KROHN    SCHANCHE 

SECOND   IMPRESSION 


NEW  YORK 

THE  AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN  FOUNDATION 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

1916 


Copyright,  1916,  by  The  ^American- Scandinavian  Foundation 
<iAll  Stage  Rights  reserved  by  Henninge  Krohn  Schanche 


•D.  -£.  Updike  •  The  -Jtferrymount  Tress  •  Boston  •  U.  S.  ^. 


CONTENTS     n  C  /  / 
I  D  I  I 

INTRODUCTION  vii 

EYVIND   OF  THE   HILLS  I 

THE   HRAUN    FARM  8l 


INTRODUCTION 

BOTH  volumes  of  the  SCANDINAVIAN  CLASSICS  selected 
to  appear  in  1916  are  by  natives  of  Iceland.  They  be- 
long, however,  to  periods  of  time  and  to  modes  of  writing 
remote  from  each  other.  Snorri  Stiirluson,  the  greatest  of 
Icelandic  historians,  was  born  in  1 1 79.  His  Prose  Edda,  the 
companion-piece  of  the  present  volume,  is  a  Christian's 
account  of  Old  Norse  myths  and  poetic  conceptions  thus 
happily  preserved  as  they  were  about  to  pass  into  oblivion. 
More  than  seven  hundred  years  separate  Johann  Sigur- 
jonsson from  Snorri,  and  his  work  is  in  dramatic,  not  saga 
form.  But  even  as  in  outward  appearance  modern  Iceland 
is  not  unlike  ancient  Iceland,  so  the  Icelandic  writers  of  the 
present  have  marked  kinship  with  the  past.  Despite  many 
centuries  of  relative  neglect,  the  old  traditions  lived  on, 
cherished  by  scholars,  until  now,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
twentieth  century,  the  Icelandic  mind  appears  to  be  again 
renascent  and  creative.  Einar  Jonsson,  the  sculptor,  has  his 
counterpart  in  the  domain  of  letters  in  such  recent  writers 
as  Jonas  Jonasson,  Einar  Hjorleifsson,  Gudmundur  Mag- 
nusson,  Jonas  Gudlaugsson,Gunnar  Gunnarson,  and  Gud- 
mundur Kamban,  while  every  important  fjord  and  valley 
can  claim  its  own  poet  or  novelist.  As  yet,  the  most  distin- 
guished performance  of  these  younger  authors  is  the  play 
printed  in  this  volume,  Eyvind  of  the  Hills  (Bjtsrg-Ejvind 
og  hans  Hustrii),  by  Johann  Sigurjonsson.  Among  literary 
phenomena  Eyvind  of  the  Hills  is  a  surprise,  almost  as 
though  Iceland  woke  to  find  her  naked  mountains  clothed 
in  forest  in  a  night. 

Let  Sigurjonsson  tell  his  life  story  in  his  own  words : '  "  I 

1  A  letter  dated  November  7,  1912,  to  M.  Leon  Pineau,  published  in  La  Re-vue 
(Paris),  July  i,  1914. 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

was  born  June  19,  1880,  on  a  large  farm  in  the  northern 
part  of  Iceland.  Our  household  numbered  about  twenty 
people.  A  broad  stream,  well  stocked  with  salmon ;  on  both 
sides  of  the  river,  rocks  where  thousands  of  eider-ducks 
had  their  nests;  a  view  out  over  the  Atlantic  with  high  cliffs 
where  sea-birds  lived;  lava-fields  with  unusual  flowers  ;  and 
in  the  distance  blue  mountains;  such  was  the  theatre  where 
I  acted  my  childhood  pieces  and  where  I  wrote  my  first 
poems. 

"When  fourteen  years  old,  I  was  sent  to  school  at  Reyk- 
javik; but  after  pocketing  the  diploma  of  the  upper  class, 
my  longing  led  me  down  to  Copenhagen,  where  I  chose 
the  study  of  veterinary  science.  For  three  years  I  worked 
zealously  at  my  studies  and  took  all  the  preliminary  exam- 
inations required,  until  suddenly  I  burned  my  ships  and 
resolutely  threw  myself  into  the  work  of  a  playwright.  At 
first  one  difficulty  piled  up  after  another.  To  begin  with, 
I  had  to  write  in  a  language  not  my  own.  And  then,  what 
knowledge  I  had  of  human  nature  was  limited  to  a  most  in- 
complete knowledge  of  myself  and  of  a  few  college  chums 
of  my  own  age.  Besides,  it  was  not  long  before  I  had  to 
concern  myself  about  mere  bread  and  butter. 

"  My  first  victory  was  an  appreciative  letter  from  Bjorn- 
stjerne  Bjornson,  wherein  he  promised  warmly  to  recom- 
mend me  to  Gyldendal's,  the  great  publishing  house,  which 
subsequently  published  my  first  play,  Dr.  Rung. 

"  My  second  victory  was  the  acceptance  by  the  Dagmar 
Theatre  of  The  Hraun  Farm.  After  the  sometime  directors 
of  that  theatre  resigned,  my  play  passed  into  the  control 
of  the  Royal  Theatre.  Finally,  I  made  my  stage  debut  with 
Eyvind  of  the  Hills,  which  was  received  with  much  enthu- 
siasm both  by  press  and  public. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

"  In  order  to  give  as  much  actuality  as  possible  to  this 
drama,  I  traversed  Iceland  on  foot  from  north  to  south 
and  saw  the  places  high  up  in  the  wild  mountain  waste 
where  Eyvind  lived  with  his  wife.  In  my  little  garret  in 
Copenhagen  I  had  learned  by  my  own  experience  the  agony 
of  loneliness." 

Sigurjonsson's  first  drama,  Dr.  Rung,  was  written  in 
Danish  and  published  in  1905.  This  tragedy  presents  a 
young  Copenhagen  physician,  Harold  Rung,  who  is  en- 
deavoring to  find  a  specific  against  tuberculosis.  In  order 
to  test  the  effect  of  his  serum,  he  decides  to  inoculate 
himself  with  the  disease,  and  the  pleading  of  Vilda,  who 
loves  him,  fails  to  shake  him  from  his  purpose.  The  remedy 
proves  a  failure;  the  young  scientist  goes  mad,  giving  Vilda 
poisoned  grapes. 

The  Hraun  Farm  was  published  in  Icelandic  in  1908 
(Bbndinn  a  Hrauni},  and  in  Danish  in  1912  (Gaarden 
Hraun].  In  rewriting  the  play  for  the  Copenhagen  stage, 
Sigurjonsson  gave  it  a  happy  ending,  thus  changing  a  tra- 
gedy into  a  pleasant  dramatic  idyl  of  contemporary  country 
life  in  Iceland,  It  is  the  familiar  Scandinavian  theme  of  the 
struggle  of  human  love  with  love  of  the  homestead.  An  old 
farmer,  Sveinungi,  is  a  veritable  patriarch  living  at  the  edge 
of  the  "  hraun,"  the  lava-field.  His  only  daughter,  Ljot,  he 
has  destined  for  a  sturdy  neighbor's  son,  who  will  keep  up 
the  estate.  But  the  girl  falls  in  love  with  a  young  geologist 
and  arouses  her  father's  wrath,  until  the  play  ends  with  a 
scene  in  which  Sveinungi  is  won  over  by  Jorunn,  his  per- 
suasive wife.  The  action  is  interrupted  by  an  earthquake. 
The  dialogue  is  well  maintained  and  rises  to  heights  of  lyri- 
cal splendor.  In  point  of  dramatic  effectiveness,  The  Hraun 
Farm  may  be  regarded  as  only  a  preliminary  study  com- 


x  INTRODUCTION 

pared  to  the  next  play,  but  its  picture  of  pastoral  Iceland 
makes  it  a  fitting  companion-piece  to  the  greater  drama  in 
the  present  volume. 

All  other  work  of  Sigurjonsson  and  the  younger  Ice- 
landic dramatists  pales  beside  Eyvind  of  the  Hills,  writ- 
ten in  Danish  and  published  in  191 1.1  The  high  sky  of  dra- 
matic vision,  the  simple  nobility  of  the  characters  por- 
trayed, and  the  poetry  of  exalted  passion  raise  above  the 
ordinary  this  stern  tragedy  of  natural  lives  in  the  wilder- 
ness. Eyvind  is  a  man  of  heroic  mould,  who  was  forced  by 
circumstances  and  hunger  to  the  state  of  a  common  thief. 
When  outlawed,  he  fled  to  the  mountains.  Seeking  human 
companionship,  he  now  descends  into  a  valley  where  his 
identity  is  unknown  and  takes  service  with  Halla,  a  rich 
young  widow.  She  learns  of  his  disguise  only  to  fall  in 
iove  with  his  real  character.  Persecuted  by  her  brother-in- 
law,  who  wishes  to  marry  her,  and  possessed  by  a  great 
love,  she  insists  on  sharing  the  outlaw's  lot  and  escapes 
with  him  to  his  old  haunt  in  the  mountains.  Here  they  have 
two  children,  but  she  is  obliged  to  sacrifice  them  both  in 
turn,  and  to  flee  ever  farther  away.  The  last  act  finds  the 
outlaw  and  his  wife  facing  each  other  in  a  lonely  hut,  in  the 
midst  of  a  snowstorm  which  has  shut  off  every  avenue  of 
sustenance.  Although  the  beautiful  reality  of  love  is  there, 
they  are  tormented  by  hunger  and  utter  need  into  doubts 
and  mutual  reproaches,  and  at  last  seek  death  in  the  snow. 

According  to  the  historical  facts  upon  which  the  story 
is  based,  a  stray  horse  found  its  way  to  the  hut  of  the  starv- 
ing couple,  and  so  their  lives  were  saved.  Sigurjonsson  used 

1  The  English  translation  combines  features  of  the  original  edition  and  a  re- 
vised version  printed  in  1913.  The  play  appeared  also  in  Icelandic  (Fjalla- 
Ey-vindur)  in  19  iz. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

this  ending  when  he  rewrote  the  last  scenes  of  the  fourth 
act  for  Fru  Dybvad,  who  played  the  part  of  Halla  in  Co- 
penhagen, concluding  with  Halla's  exclamation:  "  So  there 
is  then  a  God ! "  With  Eyvind,  as  with  The  Hraun  Farm, 
we  can  thus  take  our  choice  of  two  endings. 

The  Wish  (Onskei),  Sigurjonsson's  latest  play,  was  pub- 
lished in  1915.  Gloomy  and  terrible,  but  strong  and  re- 
strained, it  is  built  on  a  theme  of  seduction,  remorse,  and 
forgiveness  in  death,  woven  about  the  legendary  figure  of 
Galdra-Loftur,  who  lived  in  Iceland  at  the  beginning  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  It  ends  with  an  intensely  dramatic 
scene  in  the  old  cathedral  church  at  Holar. 

In  addition  to  these  four  plays,  Sigurjonsson  has  also 
written  some  beautiful  verse. 

In  Mrs.  Schanche,  Sigurjonsson  has  a  translator  well 
fitted  by  artistic  family  traditions  for  the  task.  Herself  of 
Norwegian  descent,  she  has  been  for  upward  of  thirty  years 
a  resident  of  Philadelphia.  She  has  interpreted  the  pure 
idiom  of  Sigurjonsson's  dialogue  with  real  dramatic  per- 
ception. In  editing  the  volume  the  Publication  Committee 
has  had  the  valuable  assistance  of  Hanna  Astrup  Larsen. 

Georg  Brandes,  the  veteran  Danish  critic,  though  not 
given  to  over  optimism,  has  recognized  Sigurjonsson's  dis- 
tinction, and  the  Icelander  is  acclaimed  by  the  public  who 
best  know  Ibsen  and  Strindberg,  in  Copenhagen,  Stock- 
holm, and  Christiania.  Eyvind  has  been  successful  also  on 
the  German  stage.  "Poetic  talent  of  high  order,"  says 
Brandes,  "manifests  itself  in  this  new  drama,  with  its  seri- 
ousness, rugged  force,  and  strong  feeling.  Few  leading 
characters,  but  these  with  a  most  intense  inner  life;  cour- 
age to  confront  the  actual,  and  exceptional  skill  to  depict 
it;  material  fully  mastered  and  a  corresponding  confident 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

style!"  And  the  French  critic,  Leon  Pineau,  concludes  a 
long  account  of  Sigurjonsson's  production  with  the  follow- 
ing estimate  of  Eyvind  of  the  Hills:  "In  this  drama  there 
is  no  haze  of  fantasy,  no  bold  and  startling  thesis,  not  even 
a  new  theory  of  art  —  nothing  but  poetry;  not  the  poetry  of 
charming  and  fallacious  words,  not  that  of  lulling  rhythm, 
nor  of  dazzling  imagery  which  causes  forget  fulness,  but 
the  sublimely  powerful  poetry  which  creates  being  of  flesh 
and  blood  like  ourselves  —  to  whom  Johann  Sigurjonsson 
has  given  of  his  own  soul." 

Written  by  the  author  in  a  language  not  his  by  birth, 
this  rock-ribbed  tragedy  of  the  strong  and  simple  passions 
of  Iceland  lends  itself  peculiarly  to  international  interpre- 
tation. It  is  with  some  curiosity,  therefore,  as  well  as  sat- 
isfaction, that  we  introduce  to  English  readers  a  young 
representative  of  the  renaissance  of  Icelandic  literature. 
How  will  he  be  judged  by  our  countrymen,  and  what  will 
be  his  place,  if  any,  upon  the  American  stage? 

H.  G.  L. 


York,  June  i,  1916. 


EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

[BJ&RG-EJHND  OG  HANS  HUSTRU] 

A   DRAMA   IN   FOUR  ACTS 

II  I 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

HALLA  (pronounced  Hadld},  a  well-to-do  widow. 

KARI  (pronounced  Kowri},  overseer  on  Hallo's  farm. 

Bj0RN,  Halla's  brother-in-law,  farmer  and  bailiff. 

ARNES,  a  vagrant  laborer. 

GUDFINNA,  an  elderly,  unmarried  relative  of  the  family. 

MAGNUS 

ODDNY 

Halla's  servants. 

SlGRID 

A  Shepherd  Boy 

ARNGRIM,  a  leper. 

A  District  Judge. 

TOTA,  a  child  of  three  years. 

Peasants,  peasant  women,  and  farm-hands. 

The  action  takes  place  in  Iceland  in  the  middle  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  The  story  of  the  two  principal  characters  is 
founded  on  historical  events.  Halla's  nature  is  moulded  on 
a  Danish  woman's  soul. 


ACT  I 

A"badstofa"  or  servants'  hall.  Along  each  side-wall,  a  row 
of  bedsteads  with  bright  coverlets  of  knitted  wool.  Between  the 
bedsteads,  a  narrow  passageway.  On  the  right,  the  entrance, 
which  is  reached  by  a  staircase.  On  the  left,  opposite  the  en- 
trance, a  dormer-window  with  panes  of  bladder.  On  the  right, 
over  the  bedsteads,  a  similar  window.  Long  green  blades  of  grass 
are  visible  through  the  panes.  In  the  centre  back  a  door  opens 
into  Hallo's  bed-chamber,  which  is  separated  from  the  "bad- 
stofa"  by  a  thin  board  partition.  A  small  table-leaf  is  attached 
by  hinges  to  the  partition.  A  copper  train-oil  lamp  is  fastened 
in  the  doorcase.  Over  the  nearest  bedsteads  a  cross-beam  runs  at 
a  man's  height  from  the  floor;  from  this  to  the  roof-tree  is  half 
of  a  man's  height.  Under  the  window  stands  a  painted  chest. 
Carved  wooden  boxes  are  pushed  in  under  the  bedsteads.  The 
" badstofa"  is  old,  the  woodwork  blackened  by  age  and  soot. 

It  is  early  spring,  a  late  afternoon.  Gudfinna  and  Oddny  are 
sitting  on  the  beds  facing  each  other,  Gudfinna  mending  shoes, 
Oddny  putting  patches  on  a  coat.  The  Shepherd  Boy  is  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  throiuing  a  dart  adorned  with  red 
cock's  feathers.  The  costumes  are  old  Icelandic. 

The  Boy  (throws  his  dart].  Ho !  ho!  I  came  pretty  near  hit- 
ting her  that  time! 

Gudfinna.  Hitting  whom? 

The  Boy.  Can't  you  see  the  little  spider  hanging  down 
from  the  beam?  I  mean  to  shoot  and  break  her  thread. 

Oddny.  You  are  always  up  to  some  tomfoolery. 

Gudfinna.  Leave  the  poor  creature  in  peace !  It  has  done 
you  no  harm. 

The  Boy  (laughing^.  Do  you  think  she  'd  break  her  legs 
if  she  should  happen  to  fall  down  on  the  floor? 


4  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Gudfinna.  I  won't  have  it !  Destroying  a  spider's  web  is 
sure  to  bring  bad  luck,  and  you  '11  end  by  tearing  the  win- 
dow-pane with  your  dart. 

The  Boy.  Kari  has  told  me  of  a  man  who  broke  a  bow- 
string with  one  shot,  and  that  from  way  off.  (Shoots.) 

Gudfinna.  If  you  don't  stop,  you  shall  wear  your  shoes 
with  the  holes  in  them. 

The  Boy  (pulling  the  dart  out  of  the  beam).  Would  you 
rather  have  me  shoot  your  ear-locks? 

Gudfinna.  Are  you  crazy,  lad?  You  might  hit  my  eyes. 

The  Boy.  I  must  have  some  kind  of  fun.  I  think  I  '11  have 
a  shot  at  Oddny's  plaits. 

Oddny.  If  you  dare ! 

The  Boy  (laughing}.  If  I  have  bad  luck,  you  will  look  at 
Kari  with  only  one  eye. 

Oddny.  You  need  a  good  spanking. 

Gudfinna.  Kari  ought  not  to  have  given  you  that  dart. 

The  Boy  (going  to  the  spider,  makes  a  fanning  motion  with  his 
hand').  Up,  old  spinning-woman,  if  you  bode  good!  Down, 
if  you  bode  ill !  Up,  if  you  bode  good !  Down,  if  you  bode  ill ! 

Gudfinna.  You  are  awfully  hard  on  your  shoes,  worse 
than  a  grown  man.  I  hope  you  don't  walk  on  the  sharpest 
stones  just  for  fun? 

Oddny.  Of  course  he  does! 

The  Boy.  The  sheep  were  so  restless  to-day.  Some  of  them 
came  near  slipping  away  from  me. 

Oddny.  If  they  had,  you  would  n't  be  riding  such  a  high 
horse  now ! 

Gudfinna.  Have  they  been  bad  to  you,  laddie?  Do  you 
never  feel  timid  when  you  are  alone  so  much? 

The  Boy.  Sometimes  I  keep  thinking  what  I  should  do 
if  a  mad  bull  came  tearing  down  the  mountains. 


ACT  FIRST  5 

Gudfinna.  Don't  speak  of  them!  They  are  the  worst 
monsters  in  the  world — except,  perhaps,  the  skoffin. 

The  Boy.  What  is  a  skoffin? 

Gudfinna.  Don't  you  know  that?  When  a  rooster  gets 
to  be  very  old,  he  lays  an  egg,  and  if  that 's  hatched,  it  be- 
comes a  skoffin.  It  kills  a  man  by  just  looking  at  him,  and 
the  only  thing  that  can  slay  it  is  a  church-blessed  silver 
bullet.  Indeed,  there  are  many  things  you  have  to  be  care- 
ful of,  my  child.  Are  you  not  afraid  of  the  outlaws?  They 're 
not  good,  those  fellows;  they  go  about  in  skins  with  the 
wool  on  them  and  carry  long  sticks  with  ice-spurs,  and  that 
at  midsummer.  Have  you  ever  seen  anything  of  them? 

The  Boy.  No,  but  yesterday  I  pretty  near  got  scared. 
There  came  a  man  with  a  big  bag  under  his  arm.  I  did  n't 
know  him  at  first,  but  it  was  only  Arnes. 

Gudfinna.  And  what  did  he  want  of  you  ? 

The  Boy.  He  asked  me  to  show  him  the  way  to  a  spring. 
He  was  thirsty. 

Gudfinna.  You  had  better  not  have  too  much  talk  with 
him.  (Hands  him  the  shoes.]  There !  Now  they  will  last  till 
to-morrow  anyway.  (Kneels  down,  pulls  out  a  box,  and  ex- 
amines its  contents.] 

Enter  H alia  from  her  chamber. 

Halla.  It  is  time  for  the  sheep  to  be  milked. 

The  Boy.  I  am  going  now  to  drive  them  home.  I  was 
waiting  for  my  shoes. 

Halla.  Have  you  seen  anything  of  the  cows  to-day? 

The  Boy.  No.  (To  Oddny.]  When  I  get  rich  I'll  give  you 
a  cow's  tail  to  tie  up  your  plaits  with. 

Oddny.  Hold  your  tongue!  [Exit  the  Boy. 

Halla  (smiling).  I  heard  him  teasing  you  a  while  ago. 


6  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Oddny.  He  's  forever  pestering  me  about  Kari — as  if 
I  cared! 

Halla  (with  a  little  laugh].  Well,Sigrid  does  n't  take  such 
good  care  of  Magnus's  clothes  as  you  of  Kari's.  \Exit. 

Oddny  (is  silent  for  a  moment  and  looks  at  the  door).  If  I 
were  a  widow  and  owned  a  farm,  the  men  would  be  notic- 
ing me  too,  even  if  I  had  been  nothing  but  a  poor  orphan 
servant  girl  before  I  married  —  like  some  others. 

Gudfinna  (rising,  a  pair  of  stockings  in  her  hand}.  What 
are  you  talking  about  ?  (Pushes  the  box  under  the  bed} 

Oddny.  Do  you  know  who  was  Halla's  father? 

Gudfinna.  That  is  what  no  one  seems  to  know.  Some 
would  have  it  that  he  was  a  parson.  (She  darns  the  stockings} 

Oddny.  Yes,  or  a  vagabond.  There  were  also  some  ugly 
whispers  about  a  stain  on  her  birth. 

Gudfinna.  You  'd  better  bridle  your  tongue ! 

Oddny.  I  am  not  so  dull  as  you  imagine.  When  Halla 
thinks  no  one  is  looking,  she  does  n't  take  her  eyes  from 
Kari.  And  she  has  made  him  overseer;  that  seems  queer 
to  others  besides  me.  Last  Sunday  at  church  some  one 
asked  me  if  there  was  anything  between  the  widow  and 
the  "overseer." 

Gudfinna.  And  what  did  you  say? 

Oddny.  I  told  them  that  it  was  quite  possible  Halla  had 
her  lines  out  for  him,  but  that  I  did  not  think  Kari  would 
swallow  the  fly,  even  if  it  had  gold  on  its  wings. 

Gudfinna.  Much  good  it  did  you,  the  gospel  you  heard 
in  church!  I  am  sorry  for  you,  poor  girl!  You  are  crazy 
about  a  man  who  has  neither  eye  nor  ear  for  you,  but  that 
is  no  reason  whv  you  should  be  running  around  spread- 
ing gossip.  Halla  is  not  the  kind  of  woman  that  is  fond  of 
men.  There  was  never  a  harsh  word  between  her  and  her 


ACT  FIRST  7 

husband,  God  rest  his  soul,  but  there  was  not  much  love- 
making  between  them  either.  No,  indeed! 

Oddny.  Well,  what  of  that!  He  was  a  man  up  in  years 
and  had  a  fine  farm. 

Gudfinna.  He  was  an  upright  and  honest  man,  and  Halla 
made  him  a  good  wife,  my  dear. 

Oddny.  Who  doubts  that?  (Silence?}  I  don't  know  what 
ails  Kari  of  late.  Yesterday  he  flew  into  a  rage  when  I  asked 
him  if  he  knew  of  a  cure  for  freckles.  I  hope  Halla  has  not 
become  such  a  saint  yet  that  one  can't  notice  her  freckles. 

Enter  Kari  and  Magnus. 

Karl  and  Magnus.  Good  evening! 

Gudfinna  and  Oddny.  Good  evening! 

Oddny  (rising}.  I  am  sitting  on  your  bed,  I  believe. 

Magnus  (throws  off  his  cap}.  Oddny,  ask  Sigrid  to  come 
here  and  pull  off  my  stockings.  (Sits  down?}  It  feels  good 
to  sit  down.  \  Oddny  goes  reluctantly. 

Kari.  Why  is  she  so  grumpy?  She  is  not  so  cheerful  a 
body  as  you  are.  I  should  like  to  have  known  you  in  your 
young  days.  I  dare  say  you  knew  how  to  handle  a  rake. 

Gudfinna  (straightening  her  back*}.  You  may  be  sure.  On 
dry  ground,  two  lively  fellows  had  all  they  could  do  to  make 
ready  for  my  rake. 

Kari.  And  you  were  not  afraid  to  tuck  up  your  skirts, 
where  the  ground  was  low  and  marshy. 

Gudfinna.  Indeed  not!  Many  a  time  I  had  water  in  my 
shoes. 

Enter  Sigrid  and  Oddny. 

Magnus  (stretching  his  feet  out  on  the  floor}.  Pull  off  my 
shoes!  I'm  so  tired  to-night  I  can't  move. 

Sigrid.  It  must  be  laziness  that  ails  you,  as  usual.  (Kneels 


8  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

dawn?)  How  in  the  name  of  heaven  did  you  manage  to  get 
so  wet  in  this  dry  weather?  I  can  wring  the  water  out  of 
your  stockings. 

Magnus.  Kari  wanted  to  jump  the  creek  to  make  a  short 
cut,  and  I  fell  in. 

Oddny  (to  Kari}.  Aren't  you  wet,  too? 

Kari.  No.  (Sits  down.} 

Magnus.  Kari  skims  over  everything  like  a  bird. 

Kari.  Every  man  has  his  gift.  (To  Sigrid.}  You  should 
see  the  rocks  Magnus  can  lift. 

Magnus.  Well,  it  may  be  true  that  I  am  pretty  strong, 
but  I  should  like  to  see  the  man  who  could  throw  you  in 
an  honest  glima. 

Oddny.  I  know  one  whom  Kari  couldn't  stand  against. 

Magnus.  And  who  is  that?  (jSigrid  pulls  at  his  stockings.} 
There !  There ! 

Oddny.  Bj0rn,  Halla's  brother-in-law. 

Magnus.  I  should  not  be  afraid  to  bet  on  Kari  against 
him.  (To  Sigrid.}  Give  me  the  stockings!  (Dries  his  feet 
with  the  stocking  legs.} 
(Sigrid  pulls  out  a  chest,  where  she  finds  dry  stockings.} 

Enter  Halla. 

Oddny.  I  don't  think  Kari  would  dare  to  try  a  fall  with 
the  bailiff. 

Kari.  If  you  were  the  prize,  I  should  not  dare  to! 

Gudfinna  (laughing}.  There  you  got  it! 
(Everybody  laughs  except  Oddny.} 

Halla  (smiling}.  Yet  many  have  fought  for  less. 

Magnus.  I  'm  ready  to  make  a  wager  with  you,  Oddny. 
that  Kari  would  win. 

Halla.  It  does  not  look  as  if  the  cows  were  coming 


ACT  FIRST  9 

home  to-night.  Magnus,  won't  you  go  up  the  gorge  and  see 

if  they  are  there,  and  I  will  send  the  boy  down  to  the  creek. 

\_Exit  Sigrid  with  the  wet  stockings. 

Magnus.  Oh,  why  did  I  bother  to  change  my  stockings ! 

Halla.  You  can  take  a  horse.  (A  dog  is  heard  barking?) 
There!  we  shall  have  company. 

Kari  (rising).  I  '11  run  up  there. 

Halla.  You  have  your  trout  nets  to  look  after.  I  know 
Magnus  won't  mind. 

Magnus.  Confound  those  cows!  Why  can't  they  come 
home  in  time!  (Puts  on  his  shoes.} 

(Kari  pulls  out  a  small  box  from  under  the  bed  and  begins  to 
whittle  teeth  for  a  rake.} 

Arnes  puts  his  head  in  at  the  door;  he  carries  a  large  bag. 

Arnes.  Good  evening!  I  did  not  want  to  trouble  any  one 
to  come  to  the  outside  door.  (Drops  his  bag  on  the  floor?) 
Now  Arnes  is  rich — there  's  gold  sand  in  my  bag. 

Halla.  I  dare  say  there  is. 

Arnes.  You  people  don't  know  what  lies  hidden  in  the 
hills.  I  have  heard  of  a  man  who  lost  his  way  in  Surt's 
Cave.  For  days  he  walked  underground,  and  when  at  last 
he  came  up  he  had  gold  sand  in  his  shoes. 

Halla.  What  would  you  do  if  that  were  really  gold  in 
your  bag  ? 

Arnes.  Then  Arnes  would  do  many  things.  You  should 
help  yourself  to  all  your  hands  could  hold,  and  as  many 
times  as  you  have  given  me  shelter,  and  Arngrim  the  leper 
should  also  fill  his  fists.  I  know  of  no  one  else  to  whom  I 
care  to  do  good. 

Gudfinna.  And  should  I  have  nothing? 

Arnes.  I  would  give  you  new,  long  ear-locks  of  gold. 


io  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Magnus  (laughing].  Some  little  gift  you  'd  surely  have 
for  the  bailiff — no? 

Ames.  For  him  ?  Yes,  if  I  could  throw  the  sand  into  his 
eyes.  (Opens  the  bag  and  takes  out  a  handful  of  Iceland  moss.} 
They  are  fine,  these  lichens,  and  taste  good  when  you  cook 
them  in  milk. 

Gudfinna  (rising  and  muttering  to  herself}.  The  milk! 

[Exit. 

Arnes  (holding  up  a  handful}.  See  how  big  they  are. 

Halla.  Yes,  they  are  fine. 

Arnes  (patting  the  bag}.  And  it  is  well  stuffed,  too. 

Enter  the  Boy. 

The  Boy.  Now  you  can  milk  the  sheep. 

Halla.  You  are  not  through  yet,  poor  boy.  You  will 
have  to  go  down  along  the  creek  and  look  for  the  cows. 

[Exit  Oddny. 

The  Boy.  I  hope  they  're  not  up  to  new  tricks  and  begin 
to  stay  out  nights.  [Exit. 

Halla  (calling  after  him).  Take  a  drink  of  milk  in  the 
pantry;  the  key  is  in  the  door. 
{Magnus  rises  slowly.} 

Arnes.  Are  you  going  to  buy  my  bag? 

Halla.  If  you  make  the  price  right. 

Arnes.  You  ought  to  have  it  for  nothing  —  you've  given 
me  shelter  and  good  food  so  often.  (Lifts  his  foot.}  What 
I  need  most  just  now  is  to  get  something  on  my  feet. 

Halla.  I  don't  think  we  shall  quarrel  about  the  price. 
(To  Magnus.}  Take  it  out  into  the  kitchen. 

[Exit  Magnus  with  the  bag. 

Halla.  Will  you  not  sit  down  ?  I  '11  go  and  find  you  a 
bite  to  eat.  [Exit. 


ACT  FIRST  ii 

Arms  {following  her  with  his  eyes}.  That  woman  has  a 
kind  heart.  (Sits  down?)  How  long  have  you  been  working 
here  on  the  farm? 

Karl.  This  is  my  second  year. 

Arnes.  And  overseer  already  ?  Yes,  some  folks  have  luck. 
{Leans  toward  him.}  As  you  may  know,  I  haven't  a  very 
good  name.  I  can't  settle  down  very  long  at  any  one  place, 
and  it  comes  hard  for  me  to  be  anybody's  servant.  You 
must  surely  have  heard  me  spoken  of  as  a  thief? 

Karl.  People  will  say  so  many  things. 

Arnes  (passing  his  hand  over  his  ears}.  My  ears  are  not 
marked  yet,  but  somehow  it  sticks  to  you  like  dust  —  what 
people  say — no  matter  whether  it  is  true  or  not.  Have  you 
ever  been  the  target  for  gossipy  tales  ? 

Kari  (slowly}.  Not  that  I  know  of. 

Arnes.  Then  you  have  it  coming  to  you.  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  they  are  saying  about  you  in  these  parts? 

Kari.  Is  it  about  me  and  Halla? 

Arnes.  I  have  heard  that  too,  but  this  story  is  about  your- 
self. 

Kari.  I  would  rather  be  spared  listening  to  gossip. 

Arnes.  If  I  had  been  quite  sure  that  it  was  nothing  but 
gossip,  I  should  not  have  opened  my  mouth  about  it. 

Kari  (laughing  coldly}.  You  are  at  least  frank. 

Arnes  (rising}.  It  is  all  the  same  to  me,  but  if  you  have 
anything  to  hide,  you  had  better  keep  your  eyes  and 
ears  open,  for  you  have  an  enemy,  that  much  I  can  tell 
you. 

Kari.  I  don't  know  that  I  have  harmed  any  one  around 
here. 

Arnes.  You  live  and  fill  your  place.  That  is  enough  to 
make  enemies. 


12  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Enter  Halla  with  a  wooden  mug  filled  with  porridge  and 
milk.  The  lid  is  turned  back  and  some  meat,  dried  fish,  and 
butter  are  placed  upon  it. 

Halla.  You  get  nothing  but  skimmed  milk.  I  thought 
you  would  rather  have  that  than  wait  until  the  cows  had 
been  milked.  (Lets  down  the  table-leaf} 

Arnes  (sits  down  and  reaches  for  the  mug}.  God  bless  you, 
woman !  I  am  used  to  having  it  on  my  knees.  (Pulls  out  his 
pocket-knife  and  eats?) 

Halla  (stops  in  front  of  Kari  and  looks  at  him).  You  are 
working  hard;  there  are  drops  of  sweat  on  your  forehead. 

Kari.  Are  there?  (Wipes  his  forehead;  looks  up.}  Should 
you  like  to  know  your  life  beforehand?  (Stands  up  and 
raises  both  arms  to  the  ceiling.}  I  have  lived  where  I  could 
touch  the  roof  over  my  head  with  my  clenched  fists,  and 
I  have  lived  where  my  eyes  could  not  reach  it.  (Sits  down.} 
Can  you  remember  how  few  clothes  I  had  when  I  came 
here  ? 

Halla  (sitting  down}.  I  can  well  remember  the  green 
knitted  jerkin  you  wore — you  have  it  yet — and  your  coat 
and  brown  breeches  (Smiling}  There  was  a  big  black  patch 
on  the  left  knee. 

Kari.  The  rags  on  my  back  were  all  I  had  in  the  world, 
and  now  I  own  two  new  sets  and  even  more  underclothes. 
You  deserve  that  I  should  put  teeth  of  gold  in  your  rake. 

Halla  (smiling^.  That  rake  would  be  too  heavy  for  me. 

Kari  (looting  at  Halla}.  So  many  things  come  back  to 
me  to-night  that  I  have  not  thought  of  before.  You  gave 
me  leave  to  work  in  the  smithy  in  my  spare  time  instead 
of  doing  the  wool-carding.  You  saw  to  it  that  I  should  be 
one  of  the  men  who  gather  the  sheep  down  from  the  hills 
in  the  fall,  because  you  knew  I  liked  it. 


ACT  FIRST  13 

Halla.  That  was  only  natural,  since  you  are  so  swift 
of  foot. 

Kari.  And  for  my  bed  you  knitted  a  coverlet  with  seven 
colors  in  it.  You  have  always  been  good  to  me. 

Halla.  Now  you  are  getting  far  too  grateful.  (To  Arnes.} 
Do  you  think  you  have  enough  food  there,  Arnes?  I  can 
get  you  some  more,  if  you  want  it. 

Arnes  {patting  his  stomach).  I  don't  even  know  if  I  can 
make  room  for  the  porridge. 

Kari  (looking  at  Hallo).  If  I  were  to  leave  this  place,  I 
should  miss  you  more  than  any  other  living  being  I  have 
ever  known.  (Rises,  pushes  the  box  under  the  bed?) 

Halla.  I  hope  you  will  stay  here  for  many  years  yet. 

Kari.  Nobody  knows  what  the  morrow  may  bring. 

[Exit. 
(Halla  follows  Kari  with  her  eyes.  Silence?) 

Arnes  {puts  the  wooden  mug  on  the  table).  Now  I  give 
thanks  for  the  meal.  Will  you  let  me  lie  in  one  of  your 
barns  to-night? 

Halla.  You  would  surely  sleep  better  in  a  bed.  You  can 
lie  with  Magnus. 

Arnes.  I  never  sleep  better  than  in  old  dry  hay. 

Enter  Gudfinna. 

Gudfinna.  Is  it  true,  Arnes,  that  you  can  tell  what  the 
birds  are  talking  about? 

Arnes.  Do  they  say  that? 

Gudfinna.  In  olden  times  there  were  wise  folks  who 
understood  all  such  things,  but  people  nowadays  are  back- 
ward in  that  as  in  so  many  other  ways.  (Sits  down.} 

Hal!a(smi!ing).YeSi  young  people  are  not  good  for  much, 
in  your  opinion. 


i4  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Gudfinna.  We  need  only  think  of  the  sagas.  Where  have 
we  men  now  like  Skarphjedinn  and  Grettir  Asmundsson? 
There  are  none  such  in  these  days. 

Halla.  When  I  was  a  child  there  was  nothing  I  wished 
so  much  as  that  I  might  have  lived  with  Grettir  in  his  ban- 
ishment. 

Arms.  Was  it  not  eighteen  years  he  was  an  outlaw? 

Halla.  Nineteen.  He  lived  longer  as  an  outlaw  than  any 
one  else  has  done.  He  lacked  only  one  year  to  become  free. 

Arnes.  He  must  have  been  a  great  man,  but  that  brings 
to  my  mind  what  the  leper  said  the  other  day,  when  the 
talk  turned  to  the  old  sagas. 

Halla.  And  what  did  he  say? 

Arnes.  Distance  makes  mountains  blue  and  mortals 
great. 

Enter  the  Boy,  running. 

The  Boy.  The  bailiff  is  coming  on  horseback. 

Halla  (rising}.  What  can  he  want  so  late?  Did  you  find 
the  cows? 

The  Boy.  Yes,  I  met  them  coming  home.  They  are  in. 

Halla.  Did  you  tell  the  girls? 

The  Boy.  No.  [Exit. 

Halla.  Gudfinna,  you  go  and  ask  him  to  come  in.  (Gud- 
finna rises.^  You  won't  forget  about  the  milk? 

[Exit  Gudfinna. 

Arnes  (rising).  Now  I  think  I  shall  go  and  seek  my  bed. 

Halla  (smiling^.  Don't  you  want  to  have  a  talk  with  the 
bailiff? 

Arnes.  If  I  had  found  some  dead  sheep  up  in  the  hills 
with  his  mark  on  their  ears,  I  'd  gladly  have  told  him  so. 

Halla.  Sleep  well !  [Exit  Arnes. 

(Halla  smooths  her  hair.") 


ACT  FIRST  15 

Enter  Bj0rn,  carrying  a  riding-whip  with  a  silver-mounted 
handle  and  a  leather  lash;  he  wears  riding-socks  reaching  above 
the  knees. 

Halla.  Good  evening! 

Ej0rn  (jointing  to  his  feet).  I  did  not  take  off  my  socks. 
I  see  now  that  they  are  not  quite  clean. 

Halla.  Will  you  be  seated  ?  May  I  offer  you  anything  ? 

Bj0rn.  No,  thank  you.  I  want  nothing.  (Sits  down.}  You 
know  I  have  not  far  to  come.  The  sorrel  and  I  can  make 
it  in  fifteen  minutes,  when  we  are  in  the  humor. 

Halla.  How  is  everything  at  your  place?  Have  you  any 
news  ? 

Bj0rn.  That  depends  on  what  you  mean.  Who  was  that 
I  met  in  the  hall?  It  was  quite  dark  there. 

Halla.  It  must  have  been  Arnes. 

Bj0rn.  Is  he  spending  the  night  here? 

Halla.  Yes. 

Bj0rn.  It  is  no  concern  of  mine,  but  I  doubt  if  my  late 
brother  would  have  sheltered  men  of  his  kind,  and  yet  he 
had  the  name  of  being  hospitable.  (Takes  a  snuff-box  from 
his  pocket.} 

Halla  (sitting  down}.  I  know  nothing  wrong  of  Arnes, 
and  I  do  know  that  he  is  grateful  for  what  I  can  offer  him. 

Bj0rn.  I  thought  you  had  heard  the  common  talk.  His 
record  is  not  of  the  best,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  I  have  been 
told  that  little  things  are  apt  to  be  missing  where  he  has 
made  his  stay. 

Halla.  I  would  rather  bear  such  a  loss  in  silence  than 
perhaps  throw  suspicion  on  an  innocent  man. 

Bj0rn.  Finely  thought !  Yet  some  one  must  be  the  first 
to  warn  the  unwary.  (Takes  snuff.}  You  must  hear  what 
happened  to  me  not  long  ago.  The  boy  lost  two  milch 


16  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

sheep  up  in  the  hills.  I  was  vexed  that  it  should  occur  so 
early  in  the  summer  when  they  still  had  their  wool,  and 
therefore  I  sent  one  of  my  men  to  look  for  them.  Near 
Red  Peak  he  found  tracks  of  the  sheep  and  also  the  foot- 
prints of  a  large  man.  (Lowering  his  voice.}  You  could  do 
me  a  good  turn  if  you  would  give  Arnes  a  pair  of  new 
shoes ;  I  should  pay  for  them,  of  course.  He  will  not  suspect 
anything,  if  you  do  it.  Then  you  keep  his  old  shoes  for  me. 

Halla  (rising).  No,  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  that. 

Bj0rn.  Then  we  shan't  speak  of  it  any  more.  I  think  I 
shall  find  out  what  I  am  after,  nevertheless.  (He  is  silent.} 

Halla.  You  surely  didn't  come  here  to-night  for  Ames's 
sake  ? 

Bj0rn.  I  did  not.  Was  Kari  at  church  last  Sunday? 

Halla.  Why  do  you  ask? 

Bj0rn.  I  know  that  he  was  there.  (Sits  down.}  You  are 
satisfied  with  him  as  an  overseer? 

Halla  (sits  down}.  In  every  way. 

Bj0rn.  All  the  same,  I  advise  you  to  get  rid  of  him,  the 
sooner  the  better. 

Halla  (laughing}.  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  advice. 

Bj0rn.  My  advice  is  not  to  be  scorned,  and  besides,  am 
I  not  your  brother-in-law? 

Halla.  My  sheep  had  to  learn  that  to  their  cost,  when 
they  strayed  in  on  your  pastures,  and  you  set  your  dogs  on 
them. 

Bj0rn.  Even  though  we  have  not  always  been  as  neigh- 
borly as  I  might  wish,  you  must  listen  to  me  this  time.  I 
have  always  disliked  Kari;  I  would  never  have  hired  that 
man.  Believe  me,  there  is  something  underhanded  about 
him.  Nobody  knows  him,  and  no  one  has  heard  of  his 
people.  It  is  as  if  he  had  shot  up  out  of  the  ground.  The 


ACT  FIRST  17 

only  thing  you  know  about  him  is  that  his  name  is  Kari, 
and  you  don't  even  know  that. 

Halla  (rising).  What  are  you  driving  at  with  all  this? 

Bj0rn.  Sit  still.  (Halla  sits  down.)  Last  fall  two  strangers 
who  stopped  on  their  journey  through  here  thought  they 
knew  Kari.  They  said  it  was  easier  to  change  one's  name 
than  one's  face.  As  bad  luck  would  have  it,  I  did  not  get  a 
chance  to  talk  with  them  myself,  but  my  suspicions  were 
roused.  Now  there  is  a  man  staying  with  me  who  has  just 
come  from  the  south.  He  saw  Kari  at  church  last  Sunday, 
and  if  he  is  right,  it  is  an  ugly  story. 

Halla.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Bj0rn  (rising).  Neither  more  nor  less  than  that  your  over- 
seer's name  is  not  Kari  but  Eyvind,  that  he  was  locked  up 
for  theft,  and  got  away. 

Halla  (has  risen).  You  must  be  mad,  both  of  you. 

Bj0rn.  The  man  would  not  swear  that  he  had  seen 
right.  (Smiles.}  Somehow  he  seemed  sorry  that  he  had  told 
me.  He  said  he  had  never  seen  two  people  more  alike, 
and  Eyvind  had  a  scar  on  his  forehead  just  as  Kari  has  — 
that  much  he  remembered  plainly. 

Halla.  It  was  last  Sunday  at  church  that  he  saw  Kari  ? 

Bj0rn.  Yes. 

Halla  (laughing).  Kari  was  not  at  church  last  Sunday. 

Bj0rn.  That 's  queer.  Two  of  my  men  were  there.  But 
we  can  easily  solve  that  riddle,  if  I  bring  my  guest  over 
here  to-morrow. 

Halla.  I  don't  believe  for  a  moment  that  Kari  is  a  thief. 

Bj0rn.  You  need  not  believe  it.  Simply  tell  him  what 
I  have  said,  and  that  I  mean  to  have  the  judge  look  into 
the  matter.  I  warrant  he  will  be  out  of  the  house  before 
sunrise. 


i8  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Ha/la.  You  are  quick  to  believe  evil  and  quick  to  run 
to  the  judge,  but  in  this  case  you  will  not  reap  much 
honor. 

Bj0rn.  If  you  suppose  I  shall  act  hastily, you  are  mistaken. 
I  shall  write  to  the  county  that  Eyvind  hails  from  and  give 
the  letter  to  my  guest,  who  will  see  that  it  gets  safely  and 
speedily  into  the  proper  hands.  The  answer  can  be  here 
within  two  or  three  months. 

Halla.  Is  it  out  of  kindness  to  me  that  you  are  so  eager 
about  this  matter? 

Bj0rn.  If  it  is  true  what  people  say,  it  would  be  best  for 
you  that  Kari  should  take  himself  away  from  here  as  fast 
as  can  be.  You  might  find  it  harder  to  part  from  him  two  or 
three  months  hence. 

Halla  (icily).  Now  you  show  your  real  self.  You  did  not 
come  here  to  give  me  kind  counsel,  nor  do  I  look  for  such 
from  you,  but  you  had  better  leave  me  and  my  household 
in  peace.  Do  you  think  I  have  forgotten  what  you  did  to 
me?  When  your  brother  told  you  that  he  intended  to  marry 
me,  you  thought  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  the  family  for 
him  to  make  a  poor  servant  girl  his  wife.  You  urged  him 
to  satisfy  his  fleeting  passion,  as  you  called  it,  without  any 
marriage. 

Bj0rn.  I  never  said  that. 

Halla  (laying  her  hand  on  her  heart].  In  here  I  have  a 
sealed  book  in  which  I  keep  the  words  my  friends  have 
spoken.  And  I  have  more  to  tell  you.  There  was  something 
behind  it  —  your  fear  of  losing  a  part  of  your  power. 

Bj0rn.  What  are  you  saying? 

Halla.  Did  that  prick  your  soul,  you  godly  man!  You 
knew  that  your  brother  would  follow  your  advice  like  a 
child,  but  you  had  misgivings  that  you  could  not  work  me 


ACT  FIRST  19 

like  dough  in  your  hands,  and  what  you  feared  came  true. 
You  can  never  forget  that  I  made  my  husband  stand  on  his 
own  feet.  I  know  your  greed  for  power!  But  now  I  warn 
you  for  all  time  to  let  me  and  mine  alone.  (Sits  down.} 

Bj0rn  {flushed  with  anger,  but  still  controlling  his  voice}. 
Much  have  I  learned  to-night  that  I  did  not  know  before. 
Now  I  see  why  you  made  Kari  overseer.  You  are  not  your 
mother's  daughter  for  nothing. 

Halla  (her  lips  trembling).  You  want  to  make  me  angry. 
You  can't  do  it.  Nor  shall  you  succeed  in  blackening  Kari 
in  my  eyes.  You  were  hoping  that  I  should  hurt  him  by 
telling  him  what  you  have  said.  I  shall  not  tell  him. 

Bj0rn.  You  will  talk  differently  when  I  hold  the  proof 
in  my  hand.  (Shakes  his  hand;  goes  toward  the  door.} 

Halla  (rising,  hatred  burning  in  her  eyes}.  Just  before  you 
came,  the  servants  were  making  bets  about  who  was  best 
at  glima,  you  or  Kari.  Oddny  was  the  only  one  who  stood 
up  for  you.  Kari  thought  you  had  grown  so  old  and  stiff  in 
your  joints  that  you  would  not  dare  to  go  in  for  a  wrestling- 
match. 

Bj0rn.  Tell  Kari  that  I  am  ready  to  meet  him  this  even- 
ing, if  he  wishes  it. 

Halla.  No,  I  shall  tell  Kari  that  you  have  given  your 
word  to  wrestle  with  him  at  the  big  sheep-folds  in  the  fall. 
I  hope  to  have  a  good  many  witnesses,  when  the  bailiff" 
bites  the  dust. 

Bj0rn.  I  will  fight  him  whenever  and  wherever  he  may 
wish  —  anywhere  but  in  jail.  Good-bye!  [Exit. 

Halla  (stands  motionless  for  a  moment;  passes  her  hands 
down  over  her  face;  goes  to  the  door;  calls}.  Gudfinna!  Gud- 
finna!  (Goes  back  into  the  room;  again  passes  her  hands 
over  her  face.} 


20  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Enter  Gudfinna. 

Gudfinna.  Has  the  bailiff  gone? 

Halla.  Yes. 

Gudfinna.  He  came  near  upsetting  me  in  the  hall  and 
didn't  even  say  good  evening. 

Halla.  Do  sweep  the  floor!  I  won't  have  in  here  the  dirt 
he  has  dragged  with  him. 
(Gudfinna  takes  a  bird's  wing  and  sweeps.} 

Enter  the  Boy. 

The  Boy  (shouting).  Come  and  see  what  we  have  caught ! 

Gudfinna.  Not  so  noisy!  Did  you  catch  a  whale? 

The  Boy.  We  got  a  salmon  —  so  big !  (Shows  the  size  with 
his  hands.} 

Halla.  Tell  Kari  to  come  here;  I  want  to  speak  with 
him.  I  will  let  you  take  care  of  the  salmon.  Open  and 
clean  it,  sprinkle  some  salt  on  it,  and  lay  it  in  fresh  grass 
overnight. 

The  Boy.  Won't  you  look  at  it  before  it  is  cut? 

Halla  (patting  his  cheek}.  You  big  baby!  Do  you  think 
I  have  never  seen  a  salmon  before?  Now  run  and  tell  Kari 
that  I  want  to  speak  to  him.  [Exit  the  Boy. 

Gudfinna  (calling  after  him  through  the  door}.  And  tell  him 
to  lift  the  milk  pot  from  the  fire. 

Halla.  If  the  coals  are  good,  I  must  ask  you  to  do  some 
baking  to-night  for  Sunday. 

Gudfinna.  The  coals  are  good  enough.  [Exit. 

(Halla  stands  listening.  Footsteps  are  heard  in  the  hall.} 

Enter  Kari. 

Kari.  You  wanted  to  speak  to  me? 
Halla.  I  hear  you  have  made  a  fine  catch.  Thank  you! 
I  have  promised  the  bailiff  that  you   shall  meet  him  in 


ACT  FIRST  21 

a  glima  at  the  folds  in  the  autumn.  What  do  you  say  to 
that  ? 

Kari.  I  call  that  great  news,  but  surely  that  was  not 
what  he  came  here  for  to-night? 

Halla.  No,  he  had  another  errand.  He  spoke  ill  of  you. 

Kari.  What  did  he  say? 

Halla.  There  is  a  man  just  come  from  the  south  who 
saw  you  at  church  last  Sunday.  He  told  Bj0rn  that  you 
looked  like  some  one  by  the  name  of  Ey  vind,  a  thief  who 
had  run  away.  He  even  thought  he  recognized  the  scar  on 
your  forehead. 

Kari  (in  a  low  voice,  sitting  down).  And  did  the  bailiff 
believe  the  man  was  right  ? 

Halla.  He  said  I  should  tell  you  that  he  meant  to  speak 
to  the  judge,  and  that  then  you  would  flee  from  here  this 
very  night. 

Kari  (rising  with  a  loud  laugh}.  This  is  to  laugh  at.  Do 
you  know  when  they  will  come  to  catch  the  thief! 

Halla  (has  been  looking  at  him  steadily ;  holds  out  her  hand 
to  him).  Give  me  your  hand,  Kari,  and  say  that  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  any  man. 

Kari  (evasively}.  I  understand  that  this  seems  strange  to 
you,  but  the  man  who  saw  me  must  be  some  one  who  has 
a  grudge  against  me  from  former  days,  and  does  this  out  of 
spite. 

Halla.  What  do  I  care  about  him  or  about  the  bailiff! 
Say  that  you  are  innocent! 

Kari.  So  you  doubt  me,  too ! 

Halla  (aloof}.  I  have  no  right  to  call  you  to  task. 

Kari  (ruarmly}.  I  know  of  no  one  in  the  world  whom  I 
would  rather  trust  than  you. 

Halla.  You  are  innocent? 


22  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Kari.  Yes,  in  this  I  am  innocent. 

Halla.  God  be  praised !  (Puts  her  hand  on  her  heart?)  If  it 
had  been  otherwise,  I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  borne  it. 

Kari.  I  shall  remember  the  bailiff  for  this. 

Halla  (in  an  outburst  of  joy}.  Let  him  do  his  worst !  What 
care  we !  I  am  so  happy  now  that  I  know  you  are  innocent, 
I  could  kiss  you  for  joy.  (Exultantly, ,)  Kari,  will  you  be  my 
husband  ? 
(//  is  growing  dark?) 

Kari  (terrified}.  No,  Halla,  I  cannot. 

Halla  (stares  at  him,  speechless.  Suddenly  she  goes  close  to 
him  and  scans  his  face).  Have  you  a  wife? 

Kari.  No. 

Halla.  I  could  not  believe  that  your  eyes  lied  this  even- 
ing. (Stamps  her  foot  with  anger  and  shame.}  Take  yourself 
away  from  here!  Go!  (Covers  her  face  with  her  hands;  rocks 
to  and  fro.} 

Kari.  My  eyes  did  not  lie  to-night.  (Stands  for  a  moment 
in  terrible  emotion;  then  begins  to  ^valk  up  and  down.}  I  knew 
a  man  named  Eyvind.  His  father  was  poor  and  had  many 
children.  Eyvind  was  the  next  to  the  oldest.  It  was  said  in 
those  parts  that  thieving  ran  in  the  blood  of  his  kin,  though 
no  one  could  say  anything  against  Eyvind's  father.  (Halla 
looks  up,  listening.}  Two  years  ago  or  more,  toward  the  end 
of  the  winter,  it  happened,  as  often  before,  that  there  was 
no  food  in  the  house.  Eyvind  went  to  the  parson  to  ask  him 
to  help  them  out  with  food.  He  offered  to  pay  for  it  with 
his  work  in  the  spring,  but  the  parson  refused.  It  was  late 
in  the  evening,  dark  and  snowing.  The  road  to  Eyvind's 
home  went  past  the  parson's  sheep-cots,  (ds  Kari  proceeds, 
he  noiu  and  then  passes  his  hand  over  his  forehead .}  They 
loomed  before  him  like  a  big  black  mound.  Then  the  temp- 


ACT  FIRST  23 

tation  came  over  him.  The  herdsman  had  gone  home,  the 
snow  would  cover  up  the  tracks,  and  the  parson  was  rich 
enough.  I  hated  him !  (Halla  rises.}  Late  that  night,  Ey  vind 
came  home  with  a  fine  big  sheep.  The  next  day,  word  came 
from  the  parson.  They  had  found  his  mittens  in  the  sheep- 
cot.  Eyvind  was  locked  up  and  given  ten  years  in  prison. 
They  thought  they  could  prove  that  he  had  more  thefts  to 
answer  for — (He  breaks  off  suddenly.} 

Halla  (breathlessly}.  Kari ! 

Karl.  My  name  is  not  Kari  —  it  is  Eyvind.  I  was  sen- 
tenced for  theft.  I  fled  and  lived  one  year  in  the  hills  as  an 
outlaw. 

Halla.  After  this  I  shall  never  believe  in  any  one.  (Sits 
down  and  bursts  into  tears.} 

Kari  (kneeling}.  Do  with  me  what  you  will.  Drive  me 
out  of  your  house  —  now — this  evening,  or  give  me  into 
the  hands  of  the  law,  but  you  must  forgive  me.  It  was  our 
poverty  and  the  snow  that  made  me  steal. 

Halla  (rising}.  I  will  not  cry.  It  is  stupid  to  cry.  Get 
up !  I  am  no  God  that  you  should  ask  my  forgiveness. 

Kari  (rising  to  his  feet}.  It  is  lonesome  to  live  a  whole 
winter  up  there  in  the  hills.  That  is  why  I  ventured  down 
here,  far  from  home,  and  under  a  new  name.  Since  then 
I  have  gone  about  like  one  who  walks  in  his  sleep,  afraid 
of  the  awakening.  Many  a  time  have  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  tell  you  the  whole  truth,  but  somehow  it  seemed  to  get 
harder  with  every  day  that  passed.  I  have  never  understood 
why  it  was  so  before  to-night,  but  now  I  know  it,  and 
now  I  can  speak  of  it.  Kari  has  loved  you.  You  are  the 
only  woman  he  has  ever  loved,  but  now  Kari  is  no  more, 
and  never  has  been  anything  but  the  dream  of  a  poor  and 
unhappy  man. 


24  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Halla.  Say  no  more! 

Kari.  He  has  loved  you  long,  but  never  until  to-night 
has  he  seen  how  beautiful  you  are.  (Carried  away.}  Like 
a  blue  mountain  rising  from  the  mist! 

Halla  (stepping  close  to  him}.  Close  your  eyes,  Kari,  and 
sleep  yet  a  while.  Kiss  me ! 

Kari  (kissing  her}.  I  will  sleep  with  my  eyes  open. 


ACT  II 

A  resting-place  near  one  of  the  large  folds  into  which  the  sheep 
are  driven  in  the  autumn,  when  they  are  gathered  down  from 
the  hills.  A  grass-grown  dell.  On  the  left,  a  steep  heather-cov- 
ered slope,  here  and  there  in  the  heather  gray,  jutting  stones. 
To  the  right,  a  low  bluff,  where  grass,  flowers,  and  juniper 
bushes  grow  in  the  clefts  and  on  the  ledges.  Toward  the  back- 
ground, the  bluff  becomes  lower  and  more  bushy,  and  bending 
somewhat  to  the  left,  it  partly  shuts  off  the  view  into  a  hilly, 
rock-studded  landscape  with  the  distant  mountains  beyond.  In 
the  foreground,  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  several  saddles.  The 
women's  saddles  have  broad,  brass-mounted  backs. 

It  is  a  fine  autumn  day.  Gudfinna  alone  is  busy  with  the 
luggage. 

Enter  Arngrim  carrying  a  roll  of  paper  under  his  arm.  His 

face  is  livid  and  drawn. 

Arngrim.  So  you  are  all  alone  here. 

Gudfinna.  Indeed  I  am.  I  did  not  want  to  leave  the  lug- 
gage, and  it  seemed  a  pity  to  keep  the  boy  from  the  folds. 

Arngrim.  Is  Halla  up  at  the  folds? 

Gudfinna.  I  don't  know  where  she  is  now.  She  is  so 
restless  to-day.  A  while  ago  she  climbed  up  on  a  knoll  to 
see  if  the  last  drove  was  coming  down  from  the  hills.  I 
hardly  know  whether  it 's  the  sheep  or  Kari  she  is  look- 
ing for. 

Arngrim.  We  don't  get  tired  of  watching  for  what  we  are 
looking  forward  to.  I  have  but  one  thing  to  look  forward 
to.  (Sits  down  on  one  of  the  rocks.\ 

Gudfinna.  And  what  is  that,  poor  fellow? 

Arngrim.  To  hear  the  nails  being  driven  into  my  coffin. 


26  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Then  I  should  say  like  the  man  in  the  story:  "Now  I'd 
laugh  if  I  weren't  dead." 

Enter  Halla,  happy  and  smiling,  wearing  a  silver  girdle 
around  her  waist. 

Halla.  The  last  flock  is  coming,  and  it  is  not  the  small- 
est. Kari  is  with  it. 

Gudfinna.  Of  course  he  is  with  it. 

Halla  (laughing).  Yes,  of  course.  (To  Arngrim.}  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  here. 

Arngrim.  Did  you  happen  to  bring  anything  good  from 
home  ? 

Halla  (smiling}.  You  never  can  tell.  (Searching  in  one  of 
the  saddle-bags,  she  finds  a  blue  flask  which  she  hands  to  Arn- 
grim.)  You  may  keep  the  bottle. 

Arngrim.  That  is  just  like  you.  (Holds  the  flask  up  to  the 
light.}  There  are  juniper  berries  in  it.  (Takes  a  pull.}  It  is 
like  drinking  sunshine. 

Halla  (has  moved  toward  the  background  and  stands  gaz- 
ing). What  a  change  in  the  sheep  since  spring.  Then  they 
were  yellow  and  dirty,  but  now  they  are  white  as  ptar- 
migans in  winter.  It  always  makes  me  happy  to  see  a  flock 
of  sheep  coming  down  the  mountain  side. 

Gudfinna.  Kari's  shoes  must  be  a  sight.  He  doesn't  save 
his  legs,  that  man. 

Halla.  No,  you  are  right  in  that.  (Goes  to  Gudfinna.}  But 
he  runs  swifter  than  any  one  else. 

Arngrim.  No  one  can  run  away  from  his  fate,  were  he 
fleeter  than  the  wind. 

Halla  (turns  to  Arngrim}.  Are  you  sure  of  that?  May  not 
a  strong  will  turn  the  tide  of  fate? 

Arngrim.  My  fate  no  one  can  alter.  (Looks  up.)  An  old 


ACT  SECOND  27 

song  comes  to  my  mind  when  I  look  at  you.  I  cannot 
remember  how  it  runs,  but  it  is  about  some  one  who  had 
the  thoughts  of  her  soul  written  on  her  forehead. 

Halla  (smiling).  I  feel  only  the  sun  shining  on  my  brow. 

[Exit. 

Arngrim.  She  deserves  to  be  happy.  (Brings  out  the  roll 
of  'paper •.)  Should  you  like  to  see  what  I  am  doing  to  make 
the  days  slip  by? 

Gudfinna  [goes  to  him).  Yes,  let  me  look  at  it. 

Arngrim  (opens  the  roll,  which  is  seen  to  contain  drawings 
in  bright  colors}.  These  are  birds  from  the  garden  of  Eden  — 
too  bad  I  never  heard  them  sing !  —  and  here  is  a  blue  flower 
so  sensitive  that  it  closes  at  the  slightest  touch,  and  here  is 
a  small  plant  from  Gethsemane  with  red  berries  lying  like 
drops  of  blood  on  the  ground. 

Enter  the  Boy,  running. 

The  Boy.  Kari  is  coming ! 

Gudfinna.  We  know  that. 

The  Boy.  I  must  be  off  again  to  help  drive  the  sheep  into 
the  fold.  (Leaps  with  joy.}  What  fun  to  be  here!  It's  most 
as  good  as  Christmas!  [Exit. 

Arngrim.  He  skips  about  like  a  merry  little  lamb. 

Gudfinna  (calling  after  him}.  Take  care  the  rams  don't 
butt  you! 

Enter  Halla. 

Halla.  Now  the  sheep  will  soon  be  at  the  fold.(Brus/ies 
her  hair  back  from  her  forehead.}  Are  n't  you  clever  enough 
to  know  a  cure  for  freckles  ?  I  am  so  tired  of  my  freckles. 

Arngrim  (smiling}.  Perhaps  you  have  a  new  looking- 
glass. 

Halla  (smiling}.  Perhaps  I  have. 


28  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Enter  Jon  and  two  other  peasants,  followed  directly  by  two 
peasant  women,  Jon's  Wife,  and  her  friend  with  two  little 
daughters,  eight  and  nine  years  old. 

Jon  (slightly  intoxicated}.  Now  a  bite  of  shark's  meat 
would  taste  first-rate.  You  did  n't  happen  to  be  so  thought- 
ful as  to  bring  some,  did  you  ? 

Halla  (laughing}.  That  is  just  what  I  did.  (Looks  in  the 
saddle-bags?) 

Jon.  Did  n't  I  tell  you  so!  (Takes  a  brandy-jlask  out  of 
his  pocket?]  Do  you  mind  if  I  bring  out  my  bottle? 

Halla.  Please  yourself. 

Jon  (sits  down.  The  others  follow  suit,  until  only  the  children 
remain  standing).  If  I  didn't  have  so  fine  a  wife,  I  should 
have  asked  you  to  marry  me  long  ago.  (Takes  a  pull  at  the 
flask  and  hands  it  to  the  one  sitting  next  to  him.}  Let  the  bottle 
go  the  rounds! 

Halla  (to  Jon's  Wife}.  Your  husband  is  happy  to-day. 

Jon's  Wife.  Yes,  he  loves  everybody  to-day. 

First  Peasant  (hands  the  flask  to  Jon).  Thanks! 

Jon.  Don't  think  I  am  forgetting  you,  Arngrim.  (Hands 
him  the  flask?) 

Arngrim.  The  blood  grows  colder  as  one  gets  old,  and 
then  the  warmth  of  the  bottle  feels  good. 

Halla  (hands  Jon  a  piece  of  shark' 's  meat).  Help  your- 
self. 

Jon.  Bless  you!  My  mouth  waters.  (Takes  a  knife  from 
his  pocket  and  cuts  off  a  slice.}  It  is  white  as  milk  and  sweet- 
smelling.  I  say,  shark's  meat  and  brandy  are  the  best  things 
the  Lord  ever  made — next  to  women  !  (Hands  the  fish  to  one 
of  the  peasants.} 

Halla  (finds  a  piece  of  sugar-candy  and  divides  it  between 
the  children).  Have  the  little  girls  been  to  the  folds  before? 


ACT  SECOND  29 

Peasant  Woman.  No,  this  is  the  first  time.  I  promised 
them  last  spring  that  if  they  were  good  and  worked  hard  I 
would  bring  them,  and  they  have  surely  earned  it.  It 's  past 
belief  how  much  they  can  do,  no  older  than  they  are. 

Halla.  Did  you  see  the  last  flock  ?  That  was  a  large  one. 
(Goes  toward  the  background^] 

Jon's  Wife.  Indeed  it  was. 

Jon.  My  brown  bell-wether  was  the  leader  of  the  flock. 
He  generally  stays  in  the  hills  till  they  gather  in  the  sheep 
for  the  last  time,  unless  there  are  signs  of  bad  weather. 
(Gudfinna  crosses  over  to  the  peasant  women  and  fingers  their 
clothes.  They  stand  talking  together?} 

First  Peasant.  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  winter  were 
to  come  early  after  so  good  a  summer. 

Second  Peasant.  God  knows  how  many  sheep  the  hills 
have  taken  this  year!  Do  you  remember  those  cold  days 
in  the  spring?  It  may  be  a  good  many  lambs  froze  to  death. 

First  Peasant.  And  then  those  cursed  foxes! 

Jon.  The  foxes  are  nothing  to  the  men  —  both  those 
down  here  and  those  in  the  hills. 

Second  Peasant.  I  don't  believe  there  is  anybody  living 
in  the  hills,  at  least  not  in  these  parts. 

Jon.  You  don't  believe  it?  I  tell  you,  my  good  man, 
there  are  more  outlaws  than  you  think.  To  my  mind,  the 
laws  are  to  blame  for  it.  If  I  had  my  say,  all  thieves  would 
be  strung  up. 

Second  Peasant.  Well,  I  look  at  it  in  another  way.  I  be- 
lieve the  laws  are  too  strict.  It  seems  to  me  it  is  making 
too  much  of  the  sheep,  when  a  man  is  locked  up  for  life 
because  he  has  stolen  two  or  three  of  them. 

Jon.  You  always  have  to  be  of  a  different  mind  from 
anybody  else. 


30  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

(Halla  comes  back  and  listens?) 

Second  Peasant.  I  don't  know  about  that,  but  those  who 
flee  to  the  hills  do  it  from  need.  If  the  laws  were  milder, 
I  believe  there  would  be  no  outlaws.  What  do  you  say, 
Arngrim  ? 

Arngrim.  If  we  were  all  to  be  judged  by  our  thoughts, 
the  hills  would  be  swarming  with  outlaws. 

Halla.  It  is  too  light  yet  to  be  talking  about  thieves. 
Can^J  you  tell  us  something  funny? 

Jon's  Wife.  Tell  about  our  calf. 

Jon  (laughing).  When  he  saw  the  sun  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  he  fell  down  on  his  tail  from  fright. 

Enter  Arnes,  somewhat  intoxicated. 

Jon.  There  comes  the  man  who  can  tell  us  stories. 
(Rises  and  goes  to  meet  him?) 

Arnes.  Good  day  to  you  all !  So  you  want  a  story  ? 

Jon.  You  shall  have  a  drink  if  you  tell  us  a  story,  but 
it  must  be  a  good  one. 

Arnes.  Hand  me  the  bottle.  (Drinh.J  I  could  tell  you 
some  spook  stories  that  would  make  your  hair  stand  on 
end,  but  they  are  better  told  in  the  gloaming.  (Laughs?] 
The  girls  are  less  afraid  of  us  men  folks  when  they  hear 
about  spooks. 

Jon  (laughing).  Yes,  of  two  evils  men  are  better  than 
spooks. 

Arnes  (sees  Hallo}.  Now  I  know  what  I  shall  tell  you. 
Hush!  Once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  outlaws.  What 
their  crime  had  been  I  don't  know,  but  they  had  to  flee 
to  the  hills  to  save  their  lives.  They  found  a  green  spot 
among  the  glaciers,  hemmed  in  by  huge  rocks.  There  they 
built  their  hut,  for  there  they  knew  they  would  be  left  in 


ACT  SECOND  31 

peace.  But  the  hills  were  hankering  for  their  old  loneli- 
ness and  hated  those  two,  and  swore  they  would  drive  them 
away.  First  they  sent  the  storms  and  the  frost.  There  came 
a  winter  night  so  terrible  that  the  roots  of  the  grass  trem- 
bled with  fear  under  the  snow,  but  unknown  to  those  two 
their  love  had  built  an  invisible  wall  around  the  hut,  and  the 
storm  and  the  snow  could  not  get  in.  Then  the  hills  sent 
hunger.  It  came  to  them  in  their  dreams,  tempting  them 
with  sweet-smelling  hot  bread  and  butter  fresh  from  the 
churn.  It  would  have  them  barter  their  love — 

Enter  a  Farm  Hand. 

The  Farm  Hand.  Is  Arnes  here  by  any  chance? 

Arnes.  Here  I  am. 

The  Farm  Hand.  There  is  a  sheep  with  earmarks  that 
nobody  can  make  out.  Will  you  come  over  and  take  a  look 
at  it? 

Arnes  (rising).  No  peace  to  be  had! 

Halla  (holding  out  her  hand  to  Arnes].  Thanks  for  the 
story.  \_Arnes  takes  Hallo's  hand.  Exit. 

The  Farm  Hand  (to  Jon).  Your  brown  bell-wether  ran 
away  from  the  men  as  they  were  trying  to  drive  it  in. 

Jon  (rising).   That  promises  a  fine  fall, 
(y///  the  peasants  rise.] 

Jon's  Wife  (to  Hallo],  We  shall  see  each  other  later. 

Hallo.  So  we  shall.  [Exeunt  peasants. 

Gudfinna.  They  have  not  been  sparing  of  the  shark's 
meat.  (Pach  it  away.] 

Enter  Kan,  warm  from  running,  /iappv  and  smiling. 
Kari.  Good  day  to  you,  Halla !  (^Shakes  hands  with  her.) 
Halla  (has  gone  to  /fleet  Kari].  Good  day  to  you,  and  wel- 
come back! 


32 

Arngrim  (rising).  Now  I  am  so  drunk  that  I  can  enjoy 
listening  to  the  bleating  of  the  sheep.  By  the  way,  wash- 
ing with  lukewarm  milk  is  good  for  freckles.  [Exit. 

Halla.  Thanks !  (To  Gudfinna?)  You  may  go  now,  if  you 
like.  You  have  been  here  with  the  luggage  long  enough. 

[Exit  Gudfinna. 

(Halla  and  Kari  stand  silent  until  Gudfinna  has  disappeared. 
Then  Kari  draws  her  to  him  and  kisses  her?} 

Halla.  I  would  rather  wait  for  you  here  than  meet  you 
at  the  fold.  I  was  so  frightened !  I  thought  you  had  gone  and 
would  never  come  back.  (Takes  his  hand  and  looks  at  him 
in  loving  wonder?)  Where  do  you  get  your  courage  ?  I  can't 
understand  that  you  have  not  fled  long  ago. 

Kari.  I  will  tell  you  where  I  get  my  courage.  (Kisses 
her?)  I  don't  know  how  the  days  can  be  so  gloriously  long. 
It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  more  than  the  age  of  man 
since  the  first  time  you  kissed  me. 

Halla.  You  love  me! 

Kari  (is  silent  for  a  moment}.  I  love  you. 

Halla.  You  don't  know  how  much  that  one  word  prom- 
ises me.  It  means  the  sunshine  on  the  hills.  It  means 
the  streams  and  lakes.  Shall  I  tell  you  something,  Kari? 
Something  you  don't  know? 

Kari.  What  could  that  be? 

Halla.  I  am  not  going  to  say  it  just  now,  but  I  will 
tell  you  something  else.  I  care  a  thousand  times  more  for 
you  now  than  I  did  three  months  ago.  Do  you  know 
why? 

Kari.  No. 

Halla.  Because  you  are  so  brave.  You  sleep  in  my  arms 
as  calmly  as  if  you  had  not  a  foe  in  the  whole  country. 

Kari  (smiling).  I  must  have  borrowed  your  courage. 


ACT  SECOND  33 

Halla.  It  is  dear  to  see  you  smile.  Your  hair  is  like  a 
cloud,  and  when  you  smile  it  seems  to  lift  from  your 
forehead. 

Karl.  You  must  not  make  me  out  braver  than  I  am.  Part 
of  my  courage  is  recklessness.  I  close  my  eyes  and  let  the 
sun  shine  on  my  face. 

Halla.  Do  you  never  think  of  the  future? 

Kari  (earnestly),  I  do. 

Halla.  I  have  blamed  myself  much  these  last  days.  I 
ought  to  have  sent  you  away  long  ago,  but  I  could  not. 
I  had  to  be  sure  that  you  loved  me.  Last  night  I  heard 
the  hills  calling  you,  and  I  called  against  them  with  all 
my  soul.  If  you  had  never  come  back,  I  would  have  for- 
given you,  though  it  had  broken  my  heart.  (Exultantly.^ 
And  then  I  saw  you  coming  down  the  mountain  like  a  god, 
driving  a  white  snowslide  before  you! 

Kari.  Did  you  think  I  could  have  gone  without  letting 
you  know?  I  remember  once  you  had  fallen  asleep  in  my 
arms.  The  night  was  light.  Your  eyes  were  closed,  but  I 
could  see  through  your  eyelids.  I  saw  a  little  girl  with  black 
hair.  (Fondly  stroking  her  hair.} 

Halla  (taking  his  right  hand}.  How  well  I  know  this 
hand!  (Lays  it  on  her  heart.}  My  heart  beats  with  joy. 

Kari.  I  am  like  the  man  in  the  fairy-tale  who  fell  down 
into  a  deep  well.  He  thought  he  would  never  again  see 
the  sun,  but  suddenly  he  stood  in  a  green  meadow.  There 
was  a  tall  castle,  and  the  king's  daughter  came  out  to  meet 
him.  Halla,  do  you  understand?  If  I  had  not  stolen,  we 
two  should  never  have  met. 

Halla.  That  is  true. 

Kari.  The  year  I  lived  in  the  hills,  I  would  sometimes 
get  into  such  a  rage  that  I  wanted  to  give  myself  a  good 


34  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

thrashing.  Once  I  really  did  it — I  beat  myself  with  a 
knotted  rope. 

Halla.  How  you  must  have  suffered ! 

Karl.  If  anybody  had  told  me  in  those  days  that  I  should 
ever  become  a  happy  man,  I  would  have  laughed  at  him. 
Then  I  believed  riches  and  honors  meant  happiness.  I 
used  to  dream  of  riding  through  the  parish  where  I  was 
born,  dressed  in  fine  clothes  and  with  many  horses. 

Halla  (laughing).  I  did  not  know  you  were  vain. 

Kari.  Nor  am  I  any  more,  but  I  have  grown  stingy. 
The  minutes  are  my  gold-pieces.  (Takes  her  hand.}  When 
I  hold  your  hand  in  mine,  I  am  happy.  Before  I  cared  for 
you,  I  did  not  see  the  sun  shining,  and  now  when  it  rains, 
all  the  drops  prattle  about  you. 

Halla.  You  do  love  me! 

Kari.  I  seem  to  be  in  a  church.  I  hold  a  torch  in  my  hand 
and  light  one  taper  after  another.  For  every  taper  that  is 
lighted,  the  church  grows  larger  and  more  beautiful.  But  I  am 
a  thief.  If  I  am  caught  I  must  be  buried  alive,  and  now  the 
church-bells  are  ringing.  I  hear  the  crowd  gathering  outside. 

Halla.  You  frighten  me. 

Kari  (taking  her  face  between  his  hands).  I  must  have  a  long 
look  at  your  face.  If  I  were  to  become  blind  this  moment, 
I  should  always  remember  it.  Your  soul  is  in  your  eyes. 
When  you  look  at  me,  I  feel  an  unseen  hand  fondling  my 
face.  Whenever  the  sun  shines,  I  shall  see  your  eyes.  It  is 
hard  to  tell  you,  but  when  the  sky  grows  red  to-morrow,  I 
shall  be  on  my  way  to  the  hills.  I  must  flee  this  very  night. 

Halla.  I  knew  it.  (Sits  down.}  Tell  me  how  you  have 
planned  your  flight. 

Kari.  I  must  be  off  before  the  winter  sets  in,  and  be- 
sides the  letter  from  the  south  may  be  here  any  day  now. 


ACT  SECOND  35 

Halla.  I  know  all  that. 

Kari  (sits  down).  When  I  come  home  to-night,  I  shall 
say  that  I  have  seen  the  tracks  of  a  flock  of  sheep  farther 
up  in  the  hills  than  we  usually  go  to  look  for  them.  I  shall 
ask  you  for  two  horses.  You  won't  refuse  me  them  ?  (Halla 
shakes  her  head?)  I  shall  say  that  I  must  start  at  once,  this 
very  night, before  the  tracks  disappear.  When  I  don't  come 
back,  they  will  think  I  have  come  across  outlaws  or  have 
met  with  an  accident. 

Halla.  And  where  shall  you  go? 

Kari.  To  the  mountain  plain  where  the  warm  springs 
are.  I  lived  there  before  I  came  to  you. 

Halla.  How  long  will  it  take  you  to  reach  it? 

Kari.  Three  days.  It  is  about  in  the  middle  of  the 
country. 

Halla.  And  there  you  will  build  your  hut? 

Kari.  No;  last  time  I  lived  in  a  lava  cave.  I  had  brought 
with  me  some  tools  that  my  brother  gave  me,  and  I  left 
them  there.  Something  told  me  that  I  might  need  them 
again.  (He  is  silent?) 

Halla  (taking  his  hand}.  You  must  tell  me  more,  much 
more.  I  want  to  see  the  place  where  you  will  live  (with 
a  strange  smile),  so  that  I  can  come  and  visit  you  in  my 
thoughts. 

Kari.  I  forget  what  I  have  told  you  and  what  I  have 
not  told  you.  You  may  think  that  the  hills  are  wild  and 
forbidding,  but  that  is  not  so  at  all.  In  the  summer,  when 
the  sun  is  shining,  they  are  beautiful.  The  glaciers  lie  like 
white  untrodden  land  in  a  sea  of  sand,  their  lower  rim  flash- 
ing green  and  blue  in  the  sunlight.  When  you  come  nearer, 
you  see  a  chain  of  jagged  sandhills  like  a  dark  surf,  where 
the  glacier  and  the  sand  waste  meet.  (He  is  silent  again. 


36  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Halla  has  picked  a  flower  and  is  pulling  its  petals?)  Why  are 
you  doing  that?  What  are  you  asking  about? 

Halla.  You  love  me! 

Kari.  Do  you  need  to  ask  a  flower  about  that  ?  (Rising.) 
Are  you  not  the  least  bit  sorry  that  we  must  part? 

Halla  (rising).  Would  it  make  it  easier  for  you,  if  I  were 
to  whine  and  weep  like  a  child  ? 

Kari.  I  don't  know.  (He  is  silent.)  Yet  you  need  not 
pity  me.  I  am  rich  —  I  am  king  of  the  hills!  The  fire  on 
my  hearth  never  dies,  day  or  night.  The  country  is  mine,  as 
far  as  my  eyes  can  reach.  Mine  are  the  glaciers  that  make 
the  streams!  When  I  get  angry,  they  swell,  and  the  stones 
gnash  their  teeth  against  the  current.  And  I  own  a  whole 
lake  with  a  fleet  of  ice-ships  and  a  choir  of  swans. 

Halla.  I  never  said  that  I  pitied  you. 

Kari.  But  one  thing  you  must  promise  me.  You  must 
not  marry  the  bailiff. 

Halla.  But,  dear  man  — 

Kari.  If  you  do,  I  shall  come  some  night  and  kill  you 
both,  first  him  and  then  you. 

Halla.  Are  you  really  jealous  of  the  bailiff?  He  hates  me. 

Kari.  Why  should  he  be  hounding  me  like  a  wild  beast,  if 
it  were  not  for  your  sake  ?  I  have  never  done  him  any  harm. 

Halla.  I  promise  you  that  I  shall  never  marry  the  bailiff. 
(Puts  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  tries  to  draw  him  to  Aer.) 
Kiss  me,  Kari! 

Kari  (gently  pushing  her  away).  My  name  is  not  Kari. 
From  this  day  on  my  name  is  Eyvind  —  "Eyvind  of  the 
Hills,"  they  call  me  in  the  southland,  my  brother  told  me. 

Halla.  From  my  lips  you  shall  never  hear  any  other 
name  than  Kari.  By  that  name  I  learned  to  love  you.  A 
man  who  is  not  loved  has  no  name.  (Takes  his  hands.) 


ACT  SECOND  37 

Kari  (in  a  sudden  outburst,  drawing  her  to  him  and  kissing 
her  forehead}.  God  bless  you,  Halla!  (With  difficulty  mas- 
tering his  voice?)  Now  I  am  going  to  the  fold.  (Turns  away 
from  Halla.} 

Halla  (calling}.  Kari !  (Kari  turnsback.}  Must  I  askyouto 
marry  me  a  second  time?  I  thought  we  two  were  married. 

Kari.  So  we  are  before  God. 

Halla.  So  far  as  I  know,  it  is  the  custom  that  when  a 
man  moves  from  one  place  to  another,  he  takes  his  wife 
with  him. 

Kari.  Do  you  think  there  is  anything  in  the  world  I 
would  rather  do  than  live  with  you? 

Halla.  Then  ask  me  if  I  am  willing. 

Kari.  Will  you  be  my  beloved  wife  and  go  with  me 
through  all  suffering? 

Halla.  I  will! 

Kari.  Will  you  take  upon  yourself  half  of  my  guilt  and 
become  an  outcast  like  me? 

Halla  (exultantly}.  I  will! 

Kari.  Will  you  face  hunger  and  cold  and  all  terrors  for 
my  sake? 

Halla.  Have  you  not  always  known  that  I  would  go 
with  you?  Could  you  believe  me  so  low  that  I  would  keep 
you  here  with  this  dread  hanging  over  you,  if  I  had  not 
meant  to  go  with  you  ?  Every  night  I  thought:  To-morrow 
he  will  ask  if  you  will  go  with  him. 

Kari.  How  beautiful  you  are!  All  the  days  we  have  had 
together  live  in  your  face! 

Halla.  Did  you  believe  I  could  rest  satisfied  in  thinking 
of  you  with  the  mountains  between  us?  Then  you  don't 
know  me  yet.  I  will  live!  I  will  sail  with  you  in  your 
white  ships! 


38  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Enter  Bj0rn. 

Bj0rn.  Good  day  to  you,  Halla.  I  looked  for  you  at  the 
fold.  It  is  a  long  time  since  we  two  neighbors  have  met. 

Halla  (confused].  Yes,  it  is  a  long  time. 

Bj0rn.  Who  sees  to  it  that  your  sheep  are  taken  out  of 
the  fold?  Your  cots  seem  to  be  standing  empty. 

Halla.  Kari  attends  to  that. 

Bj0rn.  Then  it  is  time  you  sent  him  about  his  work. 

Kari.  Perhaps  the  bailiff  has  come  to  lend  a  hand:? 

Bj0rn  (to  Halla).  I  should  like  to  have  a  few  words  with 
you. 

Halla.  We  were  just  starting  for  the  fold.  Perhaps  we 
could  have  our  talk  on  the  way  up. 

Bj0rn.  If  it  is  the  same  to  you,  I  prefer  to  stay  here.  It 
is  a  matter  of  some  weight,  which  I  do  not  care  to  discuss 
in  the  presence  of  your  overseer  or  any  one  but  yourself. 

Halla  (to  Kari].  Then  you  had  better  go  up  to  the  fold. 

Kari.  Don't  forget  to  ask  the  bailiff  if  it  is  true  that  he 
has  been  rubbing  his  knee-joints  with  fat  every  night  the 
whole  summer  through.  [Exit. 

Bj0rn.  He  's  bold  enough,  that  fellow.  It  is  well  we  shall 
soon  be  rid  of  him. 

Halla  (roused].  And  what  was  it  you  wanted  to  see  me 
about  ? 

Bj0rn.We  were  both  somewhat  angry  when  we  met  last. 
Shall  we  let  it  be  forgotten? 

Halla  (relieved].  I  thought  perhaps  you  had  got  your  let- 
ter from  the  southland  with  the  proofs  that  you  had  been 
wrong  in  your  suspicions. 

Bj0rn.  Everything  in  good  time.  Did  you  say  anything 
to  him  ? 

Halla.  I  told  you  I  would  n't. 


ACT  SECOND  39 

Bj0rn.  I  might  have  known  that,  since  he  is  still  here. 
Do  you  think  I  am  beginning  to  look  old? 

Halla  (amazed}.  To  me  you  look  as  you  have  always 
looked.  (Watches  him  keenly. ,) 

Bj0rn.  I  admit  you  were  right  in  some  of  the  things  you 
said  to  me  when  we  met  last,  but  we  all  have  our  failings, 
and  since  my  mother  died  I  have  had  no  one  who  dared  to 
speak  plainly  to  me  except  you. 

Halla.  You  may  not  often  have  wished  to  listen  to  others. 

Bj0rn.  Perhaps  you  are  right,  but  somehow  there  must 
be  two  different  souls  in  every  one  of  us. 

Halla.  Have  you  had  a  good  hay  crop  this  summer  ? 

Bj0rn.  Fairly  good.  At  least  I  have  enough  for  myself. 
Don't  you  understand  what  I  want  to  say  to  you,  or  don't 
you  want  to  understand? 

Halla.  You  said  that  it  was  a  matter  of  weight.  That  is 
all  I  know. 

Bj0rn.  I  am  not  skilled  in  fine  words.  Could  you  think  of 
becoming  my  wife?  (Ha/la  laughs.  Bj0rn  flushes.}  Is  that  so 
laughable  ? 

Halla.  You  can't  be  in  earnest. 

Bj0rn.  In  dead  earnest.  I  shall  soon  be  forty-eight  years 
old,  but  you  are  not  a  child  any  longer  either,  and  we  are  of 
equal  standing.  If  we  two  marry  and  make  our  farms  into 
one,  I  think  we  should  have  to  look  outside  of  this  parish 
for  a  finer  property. 

Hal/a.Sowe  two  should  marry  in  order  to  join  our  farms? 

Bj0rn.  I  will  not  deny  that  I  should  like  to  see  the  boun- 
dary line  gone  between  the  two  farms,  but  that  is  not  the 
reason  why  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  you  to  marry 
me.  It  is  not  good  for  a  man  to  be  alone,  and  you  are  the 
only  woman  in  this  parish  whom  I  could  think  of  taking 


40  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

for  a  wife.  You  are  healthy  and  strong  of  body,  and  you  are 
good-looking.  What  answer  do  you  give? 

Halla.  I  must  have  some  time  to  think  it  over.  This 
comes  upon  me  unawares.  Within  three  days  you  shall 
have  my  answer.  Are  you  satisfied  with  that  ? 

Bj0rn.  I  think  it  is  but  natural  that  you  should  want  some 
time  to  make  up  your  mind,  and  all  the  more  as  we  have 
not  always  been  the  best  of  friends.  Perhaps  you  will  now 
more  readily  understand  why  I  did  not  wish  you  to  have 
a  thief  as  overseer  of  your  farm,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  that 
my  distrust  was  well  founded.  (Pulls  from  his  pocket  a  letter 
with  a  large  seal.}  This  letter  came  yesterday. 

Halla  (holding  out  her  hand}.  May  I  see  it? 

Bj0rn.  It  is  an  official  letter,  which  I  do  not  like  to  give 
out  of  my  hands,  but  I  am  not  afraid  to  trust  you  with 
it.  (Halla  takes  the  letter;  reads.}  I  can  lend  you  one  of  my 
men  to  drive  your  sheep  home  this  evening,  for  you  will 
have  to  do  without  your  overseer.  It  is  lucky  that  the  judge 
is  here  to-day. 

Halla.  I  shall  keep  this  letter. 

Bj0rn.  I  can  understand  a  joke. 

Halla.  Kari  has  been  with  me  for  more  than  a  year. 
He  has  been  a  hard  worker  and  an  able  man.  I  will  not 
have  any  one  lay  hands  on  him  so  long  as  he  is  in  my  ser- 
vice. I  want  to  give  him  a  chance  to  get  away.  That  is 
what  you  yourself  advised,  three  months  ago. 

Bj0rn.  At  that  time  the  case  was  very  different.  There 
was  no  proof  of  his  guilt  then. 

Halla  (putting  her  hand  to  her  forehead}.  I  can't  believe 
yet  that  he  is  a  thief.  (Hands  the  letter  to  Bj0rn.}  Bj0rn, 
I  beg  of  you  to  show  me  a  great  favor.  You  must  let  this 
matter  rest,  till  we  get  home. 


ACT  SECOND  41 

Bj0rn.  In  that  I  cannot  serve  you. 

Hal/a.  Perhaps  I  can  do  something  for  you  in  return. 

Bj0rn.  I  don't  understand  how  you  can  pity  a  felon  and 
a  thief. 

Hal/a.  Nor  do  I  understand  it  myself,  but  somehow  I 
do.  You  have  just  asked  me  if  I  would  be  your  wife.  Surely 
you  will  grant  me  the  first  thing  I  ask  of  you! 

Bj0rn.  One  would  think  you  were  pleading  for  your 
best  friend. 

Ha/la.  I  may  have  cared  more  for  him  than  I  knew  my- 
self. If  you  will  let  him  get  away,  I  shall  have  no  objec- 
tion to  making  our  two  farms  into  one. 

Bj0rn.  I  never  thought  your  overseer  would  be  the  means 
of  my  getting  you  for  a  wife,  but  I  yield  on  those  terms. 
Once  we  are  married,  you  will  surely  forget  him.  But  he 
must  be  gone  from  here  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  I 
want  you  to  know  that  if  he  ever  shows  himself  in  these 
parts  again,  he  will  have  to  take  his  punishment. 

Halla.  You  need  have  no  fear  that  he  will  ever  come 
back  here. 

Bj0rn.  Then  let  us  forget  all  about  him.  You  have  saved 
him  from  jail  for  a  time,  but  he  's  sure  to  end  there  any  way. 
(Goes  to  her.\  Who  would  have  thought  that  you  should  be- 
come my  little  wife !  (Tries  to  put  his  arm  around  her  waist?) 

Halla  (draws  back').  So  many  things  happen  that  we  do 
not  look  for. 

Enter  Kan. 

Bj0rn.  You  are  just  in  time.  It  will  surely  please  you  to 
hear  that  your  mistress  is  to  marry  me  within  a  short  time. 

Kari  (turning  to  Halla].  What  does  this  mean? 

Bj0rn  (laughing}.  You  had  n't  expected  this.  (Goes  to 
Halla.}  My  sweetheart  might  give  me  a  kiss. 


42  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Halla  (warding  him  off}.  No,  no ! 

Karl  (grasping  Bj0rn's  arm).  That  man  lies !  She  is  mine. 
(To  Halla}  If  you  two  get  married  to-morrow,  still  you 
are  mine. 

Bj0rn.  Has  my  brother's  wife  become  a  harlot? 

[Exit. 

Halla.  What  have  you  done,  Kari  ?  It  was  to  save  you 
I  promised  to  be  his  wife.  I  hoped  to  get  a  chance  to  speak 
to  you.  He  has  the  letter  and  is  going  to  give  you  up  to  the 
judge  to-day. 

Kari.  I  could  not  bear  that  man  to  touch  you. 

Halla.  You  must  run  for  the  horses  and  flee! 

Kari.  That  would  be  madness.  The  others  have  just  as 
good  horses.  We  must  take  what  comes.  I  shall  deny  every- 
thing. 

Halla.  What  good  would  that  do  ?  It  is  impossible  to 
mistake  the  description.  I  have  read  it  myself. 

Kari.  Did  you  really  mean  to  marry  the  bailiff  to  save 
my  life? 

Halla.  I  lied  to  him,  so  that  I  could  flee  with  you.  I  hate 
him. 

Kari.  I  love  you,  Halla. 

Halla  (in  rising  fear).  What  shall  we  do?  (firings  her 
hands.}  It  is  all  my  fault  for  holding  you  back.  (On  the 
point  of  weeping}  I  am  an  unhappy  woman. 

Kari.  You  must  not  cry.  Even  if  I  faced  the  death  war- 
rant, I  should  not  be  sorry  that  I  stayed.  (Kisses  her  hands} 
These  summer  days  we  have  had  together — in  all  eternity 
no  one  can  take  them  from  us. 

Halla  (withdraws  her  hands  excitedly^).  Don't  you  know 
of  any  way?  Say  that  the  bailiff  is  your  enemy  and  has  had 
the  letter  framed  up. 


ACT  SECOND  43 

Kari.  You  know  yourself  that  it  would  be  no  use.  (Goes 
to  her.)  I  believe  it  is  God's  will  that  you  should  not  flee 
with  me.  I  have  told  you  how  beautiful  it  can  be  in  the 
hills,  but  all  the  terrors  I  have  not  told  you  of — the  sand- 
storms, when  the  whole  plain  seems  to  be  on  fire,  the 
nights  as  long  as  a  whole  winter,  and  the  hunger  stealing 
close  to  you  like  an  evil  mist.  You  might  have  come  to 
hate  me. 

Halla.  I  will  hear  nothing  of  all  that.  (  Under  her  breath 
in  terror?}  They  are  coming! 

Enter  Bj0rn  and  the  District  'Judge,  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
peasants  and  farm  hands.  Others  come  in  as  the  action  proceeds. 

Bj0rn  (pointing).  There  stands  the  man. 

The  Judge  (goes  to  Kari).  You  say  your  name  is  Kari. 
(Shows  the  letter.)  According  to  this  letter,  your  name  is 
Eyvind,  and  you  are  an  escaped  thief. 

Kari.  That  is  a  lie. 

Bj0rn.  Read  the  letter. 

(The  Judge  gives  him  a  sharp  look.  He  opens  the  letter  and 
reads  to  himself,  now  and  then  raising  his  eyes  from  the  letter 
to  Kari1  s  face.) 

A  Peasant  (in  a  low  voice).  What  does  the  judge  say? 

Bj0rn.  In  the  early  spring,  a  man  came  here  who  knew 
him  (pointing)  as  an  escaped  thief.  I  wrote  to  have  the  case 
looked  up,  and  yesterday  I  got  the  answer. 

The  Judge.  The  description  fits  you.  It  is  my  duty  under 
the  law  to  take  you  into  custody. 
(Murmuring  among  the  peasants.) 

First  Peasant.  I  never  should  have  believed  it. 

Kari.  It  is  the  bailiff  to  whom  this  letter  was  sent.  May 
I  be  allowed  to  ask  where  it  came  from  ? 


44  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Bj0rn.  From  the  southland  where  you  were  born. 

Karl.  I  was  born  in  the  east  and  have  never  been  south. 

Bj0rn.  Will  the  judge  look  at  the  seal? 

The  Judge.  The  seal  is  correct.  (To  Halla.}  He  is  in 
your  service.  Have  you  found  this  man  to  be  a  thief? 

Halla.  No.  He  has  shown  himself  a  trustworthy  and 
an  able  man.  (To  the  people.}  Don't  you  believe,  as  I  do, 
that  Kari  is  innocent? 

The  Crowd  (murmuring).  Yes,  yes ! 

The  Judge.  I  cannot  judge  this  case.  I  must  send  him 
to  the  district  where  Eyvind's  home  is.  (To  Halla.}  Can 
you  vouch  for  him  a  few  days?  At  present  I  cannot  well 
spare  two  men  for  the  journey. 

Halla.  I  am  not  afraid  to  do  that. 

Bj0rn.  It  seems  to  me  unwise  to  set  a  woman  to  watch 
a  thief.  If  the  judge  wishes  it,  I  will  take  him  into  safe- 
keeping myself. 

•  Halla.  Does  the  bailiff  think  he  can  give  counsel  to  the 
judge?  I  offer  my  farm  as  surety  for  Kari. 

The  Judge  (interrupting  Bj0rn,  who  is  about  to  reply}.  Si- 
lence! (To  Halla.}  Then  you  are  responsible.  [Exit. 

Bj0rn.  I  must  say  that  the  former  judge  was  not  wont 
to  delay  the  law. 

Halla  (to  the  peasants}.  You  came  here  to  listen  to  false 
charges,  but  you  shall  have  a  better  pastime.  You  shall  see 
the  bailiff  himself  play  atg/ima  with  the  man  he  calls  thief. 

Bj0rn.  You  must  be  crazy!  I  won't  touch  him. 

Halla.  My  dear  brother-in-law  made  me  a  promise  last 
spring  that  he  would  wrestle  with  Kari  here  at  the  folds. 
It  was  a  wager,  and  now  he  is  backing  out  of  it.  What  do 
you  say  to  that? 

Bj0rn.  An  honest  man  does  not  play  with  a  thief. 


ACT  SECOND  45 

Haifa.  He  is  no  more  thief  than  you  are.  Should  you 
be  a  thief,  because  I  said  so?  (To  the  people.}  He  is  only 
too  glad  to  get  out  of  the  glima.  He  is  a  coward !  He  is  a 
coward ! 
(Loud  or  suppressed  laughter  all  around?) 

Bj0rn.  Never  before  has  Bj0rn  Bergsteinsson  been  called 
a  coward.  (Takes  off  his  coat.} 

(Kari  throws  off  his  coat.  The  crowd  draws  back,  leaving  an 
open  space.  The  "glima"  begins.  Bj0rn  pushes  Kari  out  to 
the  back,  and  the  people  follow.  The  heads  of  the  wrestlers 
are  seen;  then  they  disappear  to  the  left.  A  moment  of  silence, 
then  a  sudden  outcry.} 

All.  Kari  has  won !  Kari  has  won  !  (Silence  again.}  Bj0rn 
is  hurt!  [Exeunt  some  of  the  crowd. 

Kari.  I  think  he  has  had  enough.  (Goes  to  Halla.} 

A  Peasant.  Bj0rn  had  his  leg  broken.  We  must  help  him. 

Jon.  I  told  them  to  look  out  for  the  rocks. 

Halla.  It  was  the  bailiff  who  drew  Kari  out  on  the  rocks. 
[Exeunt  the  rest  of  the  peasants. 

Bj0rns  voice  is  heard,  threatening.  You  shall  pay  me  back 
for  this,  Halla! 

Arnes.  I  am  glad  he  got  it. 

Arngrim.  "Hard  upon  hard,"  said  the  old  woman;  she 
sat  down  on  a  stone. 

The  Boy  (goes  to  Kari,  almost  weeping}.  You  are  not  a 
thief! 

Kari  (patting  him  on  the  head}.  No,  no! 

Halla  (to  Arnes}.  Will  you  do  me  the  favor  to  see  that 
my  sheep  are  driven  home  to-night?  I  don't  want  Kari 
to  stay  here  any  longer. 

Arnes.  I  will  do  it  gladly.  (To  Kari.}  I  meant  to  warn  you 
against  what  has  overtaken  you  now. 


46  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Kari.  I  know  it.  You  meant  well. 

The  Boy.  May  I  go  home  with  Kari? 

Halla.  No,  you  must  stay  here  and  help  Arnes.  I  will 
go  home  with  Kari  myself.  (Laughs.)  You  know  I  must 
watch  my  prisoner.  You  may  bring  the  horses,  the  black 
and  the  sorrel.  [Exit  the  Boy. 

Gudfinna.  Why  all  this  hurry? 

Halla  (goes  to  her).  You  always  had  a  liking  for  the  little 
box  where  my  husband  kept  his  money.  When  we  get 
home,  I  want  you  to  have  that  box  and  all  that  is  in  it. 

Gudfinna.  But  you  keep  your  own  money  there! 

Halla.  Not  all.  I  meant  to  buy  quite  a  number  of  sheep 
here  to-day. 

Gudfinna  (on  her  way  out].  I  must  be  getting  old.  I  don't 
understand  anything  any  more. 

Halla.  You  need  not  tell  them  up  at  the  folds  that  I 
am  going  home. 

Gudfinna  (taking  Holla's  hand).  God  bless  you  !  (Her  voice 
breaks.)  [Exit. 

Arnes  (to  Arngrim).  We  had  better  be  off,  too. 

Arngrim  (goes  to  Kari).  If  you  should  happen  to  ride 
astray,  take  care  you  don't  lose  her  in  the  mist. 

[  Exeunt. 

Kari  (to  Halla].  What  do  you  mean  by  riding  home 
now? 

Halla.  Thank  God,  we  have  good  horses!  The  folks 
won't  get  home  with  the  sheep  before  nightfall,  and  they 
will  not  begin  to  look  for  us  until  to-morrow.  By  that  time 
we  shall  have  a  good  start. 

ATtfrz.  You  must  not  flee  with  me,  Halla.  You  don't  know 
the  life  you  are  going  to. 

Halla.  You  are  a  great  child.  Don't  you  think  that  I 


ACT  SECOND  47 

have  weighed  it  all?  (Smiles.)  If  you  won't  let  me  come 
and  live  with  you,  I  will  marry  the  bailiff. 

Kari  (kneeling  before  her).  Halla ! 

Halla  (stands  for  a  moment  in  silence;  takes  a  long  breath). 
To-night  we  two  shall  ride  alone  in  the  hills! 


A  small grass-grown  plot.  In  the  foreground,  to  the  right, a  fan- 
tastic lava  formation, a  hollow  cone  Jive  yards  in  height  and  three 
yards  in  circumference,  once  an  enormous  lava  bubble  produced  by 
gases  in  the  liquid  lava.  In  course  of  time,  the  roof  has  crumbled, 
also  the  nearest  wall.  The  farther  wall  is  still  standing, but  there 
is  a  hole  in  it,  through  which  the  sky  can  be  seen.  Farther  back 
and  somewhat  to  the  left,  the  wall  of  a  small  hut  is  seen,  though 
partly  hidden  by  the  lava  formation.  The  hut  is  built  of  stone, 
the  walls  of  small  stones  chinked  with  sod,  the  roof  of  large  lava 
slabs.  To  the  left,  a  deep  gorge,  the  farther  wall  of  which  is  so 
much  higher  than  the  one  near  by  that  it  completely  shuts  off  the 
view  to  the  left,  At  the  bottom  of  the  gorge,  a  stream.  Farther 
up,  the  gorge  makes  a  turn  to  the  left,  and  here  the  upper  part 
of  a  waterfall  is  seen.  Behind  this, the  glacier.  On  the  grass  plot 
is  a  hearth  with  a  smouldering  fire.  Some  rocks  covered  ^vith  skins 
serve  as  seats.  From  the  gorge  comes  the  murmuring  sound  of  the 
waterfall. 

The  stage  is  empty.  A  horn  is  hear'd, first  a  short  call,  then 
a  longer. 

Enter  Kari  and  Arnes.  They  are  weather-beaten,  bareheaded, 
dressed  in  knitted  jerkins  and  knitted  knee-breeches.  Their  feet 
are  bare  in  their  shoes.  Both  have  ram's  horns  hanging  at  their 
side.  Kari  carries  a  swan,  Arnes  a  bunch  of  ptarmigans,  some 
faggots,  and  a  few  tufts  of  bearberry. 

Kari  (looking  into  the  hu£).  Halla !  No,  she  is  not  here. 

Arnes.  She  may  have  gone  for  water. 

Kari  (lays  down  the  swan).  It  is  quite  heavy. 

Arnes.  You  might  have  let  me  carry  it.  I  had  not  tired 
myself  with  running. 


ACT  THIRD  49 

Karl.  As  I  had  caught  it,  I  wanted  to  carry  it.  (Smiles.} 
The  old  pride,  you  see. 

Arms.  The  honor  would  have  been  yours  just  the  same. 

Kari.  This  is  the  first  swan  this  fall.  (Stroking  it  fondly.} 
I  am  glad  the  feathers  did  n't  get  blood-stained. 

Arnes.  It  would  be  lonesome  up  here  if  wewere  onlytwo. 

Kari.  Indeed  it  would,  but  you  have  tried  the  loneli- 
ness before.  Was  it  not  two  years  you  had  been  alone  be- 
fore you  met  us? 

Arnes.  Two  and  a  half. 

Kari  (pleased}.  Do  you  know  what  we  '11  do  ?  We'll  hide 
the  swan  and  say  that  we  've  come  home  empty-handed. 
(Takes  the  sivan.}  Hand  me  the  ptarmigans.  (Hides  them 
behind  the  hut.}  Now  I  wish  Halla  would  come  soon. 
(Walks  to  the  back  and  blows  his  horn.} 

Halla  (is  heard  answering}.  Hello ! 

Kari.  Here  she  comes. 

Arnes.  You  are  a  happy  mortal. 

Kari.  Yes,  I  am  happy,  and  it  is  good  to  be  here.  We  are 
free.  We  have  enough  to  eat.  We  have  sunshine,  water,  and 
shelter.  What  more  do  you  want?  (Arnes  is  silent.}  I  know 
you  are  brooding  over  something  you  don't  want  to  tell 
me.  You  seem  more  gloomy  every  day.  Are  you  longing 
to  get  away  from  here? 

Arnes.  Don't  let  us  talk  about  such  things  to-day. 

Kari.  Perhaps  it  would  do  you  good  to  unburden  your- 
self to  me  or,  better  still,  to  Halla.  She  is  wiser  than  I  am, 
and  she  cares  a  good  deal  for  you,  I  tell  you. 

Arnes.  There  are  not  many  like  Halla. 

Kari  (hastily}.  We  won't  tell  Halla  about  the  mist.  It 
might  frighten  her. 

Arnes.  I'll  hold  my  peace. 


50  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Enter  Halla,  carrying  a  pail  of  water.  The  pail  is  of  plaited 
willow  twigs  chinked  with  clay.  With  the  other  hand  she  leads 
a  little  girl  about  three  years  old.  Halla  is  dressed  in  a  white 
jerkin  and  black  skirt,  both  of  knitted  wool.  She  wears  her  sil- 
ver girdle  around  her  waist.  The  child  has  on  white  knitted 
clothes.  They  are  bare-headed,  and  their  foot-wear  is  the  same 
as  that  worn  by  the  men. 

Halla.  Did  you  have  good  luck  to-day  ? 

Kari  (dolefully).  We  have  caught  nothing  but  trouble 
and  weariness.  The  ptarmigans  made  themselves  scarce 
to-day.  We  saw  a  flock  of  six,  but  they  flew  away  before 
we  could  get  our  snares  out. 

Halla  (to  Ames).  Is  it  true,  what  he  says  ? 

Arnes.  It's  true  enough.  We  saw  six  ptarmigans,  but 
they  got  away  from  us. 

Halla.  I  am  sorry.  We  must  hope  for  better  luck  next 
time. 

Kari  (laughing).  I  fooled  you  that  time!  (Runs  toward 
the  hut.)  Look  here!  Five  big,  fat  ptarmigans! 

Halla.  Well,  well ! 

Kari  (holding  up  the  swan).  And  that 's  all. 

Halla.  What  a  lovely  surprise!  How  did  you  catch  it? 

Kari.  I  ran  it  down. 

Arnes.  I  don't  believe  there  are  many  who  can  beat  him 
at  that.  I  know  I  can't. 

Tota.  May  Tota  pat  it? 

Halla.  Tota  may  do  anything  she  wants  to.  I  should 
like  to  make  you  a  jacket  of  swan's  down. 

Kari  (cuts  off  the  feet  of  the  swan).  You  would  like  these, 
wouldn't  you? 

Tota.  Yes. 


ACT  THIRD  51 

Kari.  Some  day  when  I  have  time  I  will  skin  them  and 
make  little  bags  for  you  to  keep  your  pebbles  in. 

Halla.  You ' ve  got  lovely  playthings  there !  (  Squats  down 
on  the  ground.}  Where  are  mother's  eyes?  (Hiding  her  eyes 
with  the  swan's  feet.} 

Tota  (takes  them  away  from  her  eyes].  Here! 

Halla  (rising).  Did  you  eat  all  your  food? 

Kari.  Every  bite. 

Halla.  Then  you  can't  be  hungry. 

Kari.  No. 

Halla.  And  it  is  too  early  for  the  evening  meal,  but  I  can 
make  you  some  tea. 

Kari.  Yes,  do.  (To  Arnes.}  Let  us  carry  the  swan  to  the 
cave.  ^Exeunt  Kari  and  Arnes. 

Halla.  Now  Tota  must  be  tied,  so  the  waterfall  can't 
take  her,  while  mother  is  making  tea.  (Takes  a  rope  that  is 
fastened  to  a  rock  and  ties  it  around  Tata's  waist.  Brings  some 
of  her  playthings.}  Here  are  all  your  horses.  (Puts  a  kettle 
of  water  over  the  fire;  places  some  earthenware  cups  on  the 
rocks  by  the  hearth ;  takes  a  handful  of  dried  herbs  from  a  bag, 
rinses  them  in  cold  water,  and  portions  them  out  in  the  cups. 
The  faggots  Arnes  has  brought,  she  throws  on  the  fire.  As  she 
works,  she  sings.} 

Have  you  seen  a- brave  young  lad? 
'Tis  my  friend, 
Dearest  friend; 

'Mongst  all  men  in  byrnie  clad 
The  bonniest  is  he. 

I  have  smiled  my  teeth  all  white  and  shining, 
I  have  smiled  my  teeth  all  white  and  shining 
with  glee. 


52  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Have  you  heard  his  voice's  call, 
Call  of  love, 
Song  of  love  ? 

O'er  my  heart  the  sound  did  fall 
And  hushed  its  quick  desire. 
He  has  kissed  my  lips  all  red  and  glowing, 
He  has  kissed  my  lips  all  red  and  glowing 
as  fire. 

There !  Now  we  must  get  the  water  to  boil.  (Picks  up  the 
tufts  ofbearberry  and  goes  to  Tota.}  See  what  Arnes  brought 
you! 

Tota.  They  are  berries. 

Halla.  Yes,  but  you  must  not  eat  them  or  you  will  get 
a  pain  in  your  little  stomach.  (Rises  and  finds  a  long,  stiff 
straw.}  Now  I  '11  show  you  what  you  can  do.  (Threading 
the  berries  on  the  straw,  she  counts.}  One,  two  —  four — six, 
seven — so  many  years  your  father  and  mother  have  been 
in  the  hills.  (Strokes  Tata's  hair.}  When  you  are  sixteen, 
we  shall  have  lived  here  for  twenty  years,  and  then  we 
shall  be  free  again.  On  that  day,  Tota  shall  wear  snow- 
white  clothes  and  shoes  of  colored  leather,  and  mother 
will  clasp  her  silver  girdle  around  your  waist.  And  when 
we  come  down  to  the  lowlands,  the  first  one  we  meet  is 
a  young  man  with  silver  buttons  in  his  coat.  He  stops 
and  turns  his  horse  and  stands  looking  after  you  ever  so 
long.  Then  your  mother  has  grown  old  and  wrinkled, 
and  her  hair  is  almost  as  white  as  snow.  Your  father,  too, 
has  grown  old.  But  you  are  straight  as  a  silver-weed,  ^nd 
when  you  run,  you  lift  your  feet  high! 

Enter  Kari  and  Arnes. 
Kari  (laughing}.  Ah,  now  it 's  steaming.  I   nearly  fell 


ACT  THIRD  53 

headlong  into  the  cave,  when  we  lifted  the  cover  from  the 
entrance. 

Halla.  Did  you?  (Gives  the  straw  to  Tata,}  Now  you  can 
go  on  by  yourself.  (Rises?)  Is  there  any  need  of  closing  the 
cave  every  time?  When  it's  not  raining,  it  might  be  left 
open. 

Kari.  No  harm  in  being  careful.  If  they  should  come 
upon  us  suddenly,  we  surely  should  not  have  time  to  close 
the  entrance,  and  they  would  find  the  cave  and  destroy  all 
our  stores,  as  they  did  five  years  ago.  Do  you  remember 
when  we  came  back  to  the  old  place  and  found  nothing 
but  ashes? — and  winter  setting  in.  Not  a  single  piece  of 
mutton  did  they  leave  us. 

Halla.  I  don't  easily  forget. 

Kari.  Whenever  I  think  of  it,  I  feel  like  doing  some- 
thing wicked.  After  all,  we  are  human  too. 

Halla  (laughing  coldly}.  We  're  only  the  foxes  who  take 
their  sheep. 

Kari  (to  Arnes}.  How  did  you  hide  your  stores  when  you 
were  alone? 

Arms.  I  had  many  hiding-places.  Once  I  stole  some 
twenty-eight  pounds  of  butter.  I  stuffed  it  down  into  a  fis- 
sure in  a  rock. 

Kari.  That  was  pretty  shrewd. 
(They  are  silent?) 

Halla.  Did  you  have  a  clear  outlook  from  the  moun- 
tain this  afternoon? 

Kari.  Yes.  There  was  a  little  mist  far  to  the  southward. 

Halla.  It  was  from  the  south  that  the  cloud  came  in  my 
dream. 

Kari.  You  can  never  forget  about  that  dream. 

Halla.  I  counted  fourteen  men  who  came  riding  out  of 


54  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

the  cloud.  (Silent  for  a  moment.)  You  are  quite  sure  the  two 
men  whose  tracks  you  saw  a  month  ago  did  not  get  on  our 
trail  ? 

Kari.  Quite  sure.  If  they  had,  they  would  have  come 
closer. 

Halla.  Just  think  if  they  had  seen  smoke  and  told  about 
it  down  in  the  parish! 

Karl.  They  have  done  nothing  of  the  kind;  for  if  they 
had,  they  would  have  been  up  here  with  many  men  long 
ago.  Ah,  the  water  is  boiling. 

(Halla  lifts  the  kettle  from  the  fire  and  pours  water  over  the 
herbs.) 

Kari.  Your  tea  will  soon  be  giving  out. 

Halla.  Yes,  I  must  take  a  day  and  gather  enough  for 
the  winter.  I  will  go  down  to  the  Sun  Valley.  Nowhere 
else  are  the  herbs  so  fine. 
(They  drink  their  tea.) 

Kari.  Don't  forget  to  lay  in  a  store  of  herbs  for  your 
salve.  You  know  how  troublesome  a  little  scratch  can  be, 
when  the  cold  gets  into  it.  You  kept  the  honey  I  found  ? 

Halla.  I  did. 

Kari.  That  is  good  for  wounds,  too.  And  you  must 
gather  cotton  grass  for  lamp  wicks.  (Goes  to  Tata  and  gives 
her  tea.)  Tota  must  have  a  taste,  too. 

Arnes  (has  been  looking  at  Halla).  Your  hair  was  quite 
black  before,  but  now  there  has  come  a  sheen  of  red  into  it. 

Kari.  I  have  not  noticed  it,  but  your  freckles  are  all 
gone,  I  have  seen  that.  (Patting  her  cheek.)  Are  you  going 
to  give  us  more  tea? 

Halla.  As  much  as  you  want. 

Kari  (rises  and  goes  into  the  hut;  returns  with  three  wooden 
pipes  and  two  pouches,  one  large  and  one  small).  You  need 


ACT  THIRD  55 

not  be  saving  of  the  leaves,  but  the  tobacco  I  shall  have  to 
dole  out  to  you. 
(They  fill  their  pipes.] 

Halla  (smiling).  It  was  foolish  of  you  to  teach  me  to 
smoke. 

Kari.  Why  should  n't  you  have  that  boon  as  well  as  I? 
(Shakes  his  bag.]  You  need  not  be  shy,  I  have  more  in  the 
cave,  and  when  winter  sets  in  and  the  snow  is  fit  for  ski- 
ing, we  '11  take  Arnes  down  to  my  brother's.  He  promised 
to  lay  in  good  stores  of  tobacco  and  salt,  and  I  will  pay 
him  with  wool,  as  I  did  last  time. 

Halla.  If  only  you  don't  end  by  being  caught  on  one  of 
those  journeys! 

Kari.  Never!  (They  sit  smoking  in  silence.]  Now  I  am  just 
in  the  mood  to  listen  to  a  good  story.  Have  you  one  to  tell  us? 

Arnes  (rising].  No,  I  have  not.  (Goes  toward  the  gorge.] 

Kari.  It  does  not  matter  if  you  have  told  it  before. 

Halla.  Arnes  may  be  saving  them  for  the  winter. 

Kari  (rises;  lays  down  his  pipe].  Do  you  know  what  you 
should  do?  Have  a  good  talk  with  Arnes.  I  believe  he  is 
getting  restless  and  thinks  of  leaving  us. 

Halla.  I  hope  not. 

Kari.  I  will  go  and  take  a  bath.  You  can  speak  better 
to  him  alone,  and  I  need  to  wash  off  the  sweat.  (Sings  on 
his  way  out.] 

Far  in  the  hills  I  wandered;  softly  shone  the  summer 
night, 

And  the  sun  had  ne'er  a  thought  of  sleeping. 

Now  will  I  bring  my  sweetheart  dear  the  hidden  trea- 
sure bright, 

For  faithfully  my  vows  I  would  be  keeping. 


56  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Heigh,  ho! 

New  and  fine  my  stockings  are,  new  and  fine  my  shoes, 

And  not  a  care  in  all  the  world  to  plague  me! 

Halla  (sits  silent}.  Is  time  hanging  heavy  on  you  up  here  ? 

Ames  (goes  to  her].  No,  that  is  only  something  Kari  has 
got  into  his  head,  because  I  am  not  always  merry. 

Halla  (smiling}.  Once  you  boasted  of  being  kin  to  the 
trolls. 

Ames.  So  I  am.  (Halla  rises;  blows  a  great  puff  of  smoke 
into  his  face,  laughs.  Ames  takes  hold  of  her  wrists.]  Once 
there  were  two  trolls.  They  quarrelled  and  turned  each 
other  into  stone.  One  had  to  stand  where  all  the  birds 
dropped  their  filth,  and  the  other  had  to  stand  where  all 
the  winds  blew.  Which  would  you  rather  be? 

Halla  (tears  herself  away}.  I  have  not  been  turned  to 
stone  yet.  (Laughs.}  I  thought  you  had  forgotten  all  your 
old  stories. 

Ames.  You  are  strong. 

Halla  (sits  down  on  the  grass,  leaning  on  her  arm}.  Can  you 
foretell  things  from  the  clouds? 

Ames.  Yes,  about  the  weather. 

Halla.  I  don't  mean  that. 

Ames  (sits  down  beside  her}.  When  I  was  a  child,  I  used 
to  sail  my  viking  ships  on  the  clouds.  Do  you  want  me  to 
foretell  your  fate? 

Halla.  You  just  said  that  you  could  not. 

Ames.  The  clouds  tell  nothing  about  our  lives.  They  are 
only  the  dreamlands  of  earth.  Will  you  let  me  see  your  arm? 

Halla.  Why? 

Ames  (lifts  her  arm}.  You  think  these  lines  on  your  arm 
are  nothing  but  marks  drawn  by  heather  and  grass,  but 


ACT  THIRD  57 

if  I  knew  enough,  I  could  read  your  whole  fate  in  them. 
Something,  perhaps,  I  can  see.  Who  would  believe  that 
these  slender  arms  could  be  so  strong. 

Halla  (laughing).  And  what  stands  written  there? 

Arnes.  You  must  sit  still.  Here  is  a  deep,  narrow  line 
across  your  arm,  that  means  sorrow.  And  there  is  a  big 
fire.  (Stroking  her  arm  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers.}  I  can  see 
the  tongues  of  flame.  That  means  that  you  are  loved. 
(Kisses  her  arm.} 

Halla  (stands  up;  laughs}.  Did  you  burn  yourself? 

Arnes.  I  should  like  to  read  your  fate  all  day  long. 

Halla.  Then  you  might  tell  me  things  I  did  not  care  to 
hear.  But  I  must  get  to  work. 

(Halla  goes  into  the  hut.  Arnes  looks  after  her.  She  comes  out 
bringing  wool,  a  spindle,  and  a  sheep's  skin} 

Halla.  If  you  are  not  too  tired  after  the  hunt,  this  skin 
can  stand  a  little  more. 

Arnes.  Give  it  to  me.  (Takes  a  large  ring  made  of  a  ram's 
horn.  From  the  ring  hangs  a  loop  of  rope,  in  which  he  puts  his 
foot.  He  draws  the  skin  through  the  ring  and  keeps  pulling  it 
back  and  forth.  Halla  sits  down,  turning  her  spindle.  They  are 
silent} 

Halla.  It  is  queer  about  the  sound  of  the  waterfall.  Most 
of  the  time  I  don't  hear  it  at  all,  but  if  it  were  to  stop,  I 
should  miss  it.  Is  it  the  same  with  you? 

Arnes.  Yes. 

Halla.  At  first  I  was  almost  afraid  of  it.  Then  I  began 
to  love  it,  and  now  I  should  only  miss  it  if  it  were  not 
there  any  more.  We  mortals  are  strange. 
(They  are  silent  again} 

Arnes.  Can  you  tell  me  why  some  people  should  be  hap- 
pier than  others  ? 


58  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Hal/a.  No,  that  I  cannot. 

Ames.  Kari  has  been  happy  for  seven  years. 

Hal/a.  Are  you  sure  of  that  ? 

Arnes.  Why  should  he  not  be  happy?  He  has  a  wife  and 
child. 

Halla.  Was  there  no  one  down  your  way  whom  you 
could  bring  with  you  up  here? 

Ames.  Who  do  you  think  would  become  an  outlaw  for 
my  sake? 

Halla.  Would  n't  you  dare  to  carry  off  a  woman  ?  I 
should  try  my  best  to  be  good  to  her. 

Ames.  Do  you  think  Kari  would  have  dared  to  carry 
you  off  against  your  will? 

Halla.  Ask  him. 

Ames.  Why  does  he  not  show  it,  if  he  cares  so  much 
for  you  ?  He  forgets  about  helping  you  with  firewood  and 
carrying  water,  and  if  the  meat  is  not  cooked  the  way 
he  likes  it,  he  scolds  you.  One  might  think  you  were  his 
servant  girl. 

Halla.  Don't  let  that  worry  you. 

Ames.  And  he  can't  even  see  the  color  of  your  hair. 

Halla.  Do  you  bear  a  grudge  against  Kari,  because  he 
caught  the  swan? 

Arnes.  You  had  house  and  home  and  a  good  name,  and 
you  gave  it  all  up  for  his  sake.  He  ought  to  keep  that  in 
mind  more  than  he  does. 

Halla.  I  don't  want  Kari  to  be  offering  up  thanks  like 
a  meek  bondsman.  Besides,  I  have  done  nothing  for  him. 
I  did  it  all  for  myself. 

Arnes.  He  does  not  even  bother  to  curry  the  skins  for 
your  bedding.  If  you  did  not  have  me,  you  would  have  to 
do  it  yourself. 


ACT  THIRD  59 

Halla  (stands  up).  I  don't  want  your  help.  (Takes  hold 
of  the  skin.}  Let  go  ! 

Ames  (gives  it  up  reluctantly}.  Are  you  angry  ? 

Halla  (takes  the  skin  out  of  the  horn-ring  and  throws  it  into 
the  hut').  You  are  not  so  sorely  needed  as  you  think  you  are. 
(Sits  down  again  to  her  work.} 

Arnes.  I  did  not  mean  that.  It  makes  me  happy  when  I 
can  do  some  little  thing  for  you.  Won't  you  let  me  finish  it  ? 

Halla.  You  shall  not  touch  it. 

Arnes  (stands  for  a  moment, puzzled}.  Will  you  not  for- 
give me  what  I  said  ?  I  cannot  bear  to  have  you  angry 
with  me. 

Halla.  I  am  not  angry. 

Arnes.  When  you  were  ill,  I  once  brought  you  some 
green  leaves  that  had  come  up  through  the  snow.  Then  you 
gave  me  a  kiss. 

Halla.  Did  I  ?  (Smiles;  fosses  him  lightly  on  the  cheek.}  Have 
you  peace  in  your  soul  now? 

Arnes.  I  don't  know.  I  believe  I  shall  never  have  peace 
in  my  soul  any  more. 
(They  are  silent.} 

Halla.  You  were  good  to  me  the  time  I  was  ill. 

Arnes.  I  am  not  good  to  anybody.  I  am  wicked. 

Halla.  You  are  not. 

Arnes.  Even  with  you  I  sometimes  feel  that  I  could  hurt 
you. 

Halla.  We  can  all  be  ugly  when  we  are  tired  and  hun- 
gry- 

Arnes.  Will  you  let  me  kiss  your  mouth?  Just  once? 

Halla  (rising}.  No. 

Arnes.  Your  lips  will  suffer  no  harm  from  it.  (Takes 
hold  of  her  shoulders  and  tries  to  draw  her  to  him.} 


60  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Halla  (tears  herself  away  from  kirn).  Have  you  gone  mad  ? 

Arnes.  You  have  been  true  to  Kari  for  seven  years  now. 
It  is  time  you  tired  of  it. 

Halla.  Now  your  face  looks  like  the  bailifPs  when  he 
called  me  a  harlot.  (Gives  him  a  box  on  the  ear.} 

Arnes  (furiously].  I  know  you  better  than  you  think. 
You  are  so  pure!  You  have  never  done  an  evil  deed! 

Halla.  What  do  you  mean? 

Arnes.  Kari  is  more  open-mouthed  than  you  think.  You 
have  had  a  child  before  this  one. 

(Halla  shields  her  face-with  her  hands  as  though  warding  off  a 
blow.  Arnes  sits  silent?) 

Halla.  Why  don't  you  say  that  I  killed  my  child  ?  That 
is  what  you  meant  to  say.  You  know  I  did  it. 

Arnes.  My  cursed  mouth. 

Halla.  You  judge  me.  How  can  you?  You  don't  know 
what  it  means  to  bring  a  life  into  the  world.  It  grows 
heavier  day  by  day  like  the  snow  of  winter.  If  we  had  had 
spring  and  sunshine!  But  the  times  were  hard  and  food 
was  scarce.  I  did  a  good  deed  when  I  laid  my  child  out  in 
the  cold.  Far  less  suffering  that  than  life! 

Arnes.  I  do  not  judge  what  you  did. 

Halla.  No,  you  thought  I  was  an  angel  who  was  long- 
ing to  be  your  harlot.  You  can  go  with  a  lighted  candle 
into  my  soul  and  search  it.  You  will  find  no  remorse  there. 
What  could  we  have  done  with  a  child,  if  we  had  been 
forced  to  flee?  Should  we  have  left  it  with  strangers?  And 
how  do  you  think  it  would  have  fared?  A  child  of  felons, 
scorned  by  all ! 

Arnes  (broken-hearted}.  I  did  not  know  that  my  words 
would  hurt  you  so  much. 

Halla.  Do  you  think  I  did  it  with  a  light  heart?  I  have 


ACT  THIRD  61 

given  birth  to  two  children,  and  cruel  was  the  pain,  but  I 
would  rather  bear  ten  children  than  live  that  night  over 
again.  When  I  had  carried  my  child  out  into  the  cold,  my 
mind  gave  way.  In  my  ravings,  I  thought  the  child  lay  by 
my  side,  and  above  us  was  a  flock  of  birds — pitch  black. 
I  bent  over  it  to  shield  it,  and  the  birds  pecked  into  my 
back,  into  my  lungs  they  pecked.  (Stops  short  from  emotion.} 

Arnes.  Would  I  were  dead! 

Halla  (calmer).  I  wished  for  the  death  of  that  child  long 
before  it  was  born.  (Goes  to  Tota.}  But  this  my  little  spring- 
time child  I  have  never  wished  ill.  The  first  time  I  felt  her 
life,  it  seemed  a  token  of  forgiveness  that  I  was  allowed 
to  become  a  mother  again,  and  when  she  came  into  the 
world,  the  sun  was  shining, and  the  sky  was  blue  and  warm. 
(Kisses  her.} 

Arnes.  My  tongue  got  the  better  of  me.  (Puts  his  hand 
on  his  heart.}  There  is  a  devil  dwelling  in  me.  (Stands  motion- 
less.} I  love  you. 

Halla  (turns  toward  him}.  Have  you  not  done  hurting 
me  yet  ? 

Arnes  (crushed}.  No  matter  what  I  say,  you  think  I  mean 
ill. 

Halla.  I  shall  not  speak  to  you  again.  (Sits  down  to  her 
ivork.} 

Arnes.  Nor  will  you  have  to  listen  to  me  any  more.  I  am 
going  down  to  the  lowlands,  and  there  they  can  do  with  me 
what  they  like. 

Halla.  If  you  tell  them  of  our  hiding-place,  they  may 
let  you  off  more  easily. 

Arnes.  Even  that  you  believe  I  could  do  i 

Halla  (rising}.  If  you  cared  for  me  as  much  as  you  say, 
you  would  be  good  to  me  instead  of  bad. 


62  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Ames.  Love  has  made  you  good  and  me  bad.  (He  is  silent. \ 
Do  you  remember  the  time  Kari  and  I  went  up  the  glacier, 
and  he  fell  down  into  a  crack?  He  told  you  I  had  been 
so  frightened  that  I  shook  all  over.  It  was  not  for  his  life  I 
feared;  I  feared  my  own  thoughts. 

Halla  (terrified  by  a  dawning  apprehension).  What  do  you 
mean  ? 

Arnes.  I  have  often  wished  Kari  dead. 

Halla.  It  is  not  true! 

Arnes.  It  is.  Do  you  understand  now  that  I  must  go  away 
from  here?  I  no  longer  dare  to  live  with  you  two,  and  neither 
do  I  dare  to  live  alone. 

Halla.  I  wish  you  had  never  crossed  our  path. 

Arnes  (following  up  his  own  thoughts}.  If  Kari  had  not  been 
so  trusting  'as  he  is,  I  don't  know  what  I  might  not  have 
done;  but  he  had  such  faith  in  me.  You  don't  know  all  the 
words  the  Tempter  can  whisper  in  one's  ear.  I  thought 
Kari  had  been  happy  so  long  that  it  would  be  only  fair  if  he 
had  to  die  now.  It  seemed  to  me  that  you  and  I  were  more 
akin  in  our  souls,  that  we  had  more  of  the  wilds  in  us.  I  felt 
it  was  he  alone  that  stood  between  us  two. 

Halla.  I  forbid  you  to  say  another  word.  All  your  thoughts 
are  lies.  If  Kari  had  died,  I  should  have  followed  him.  You 
would  have  had  my  corpse,  not  me.  And  if  I  had  learned 
that  you  were  the  cause  of  his  death,  I  should  have  killed 
you  while  you  were  asleep.  I  have  given  my  all  to  my  hus- 
band, even  my  conscience.  I  can  go  on  living,  even  if  he 
should  not  always  care  so  much  for  me,  but  when  I  no 
longer  love  him,  then  I  die. 

Arnes.  I  am  glad  you  love  your  husband.  I  don't  know 
whether  it  is  because  I  have  unburdened  myself  of  all  my 
evil  thoughts,  or  whether  it  is  because  I  have  made  up  my 


ACT  THIRD  63 

mind  to  give  myself  up  and  serve  my  time,  but  I  feel  a  peace 
within  me  that  I  have  not  known  for  long.  To-morrow  I 
shall  go  away  from  here  and  never  come  back.  I  shall  tell 
Kari  that  I  mean  to  take  a  short  trip.  (Goes  to  Ha/la.)  Will 
you  do  the  last  thing  I  ask  of  you  in  this  life — never  to 
let  him  know  the  truth? 

Halla.  I  can  make  you  no  promise. 

Ames.  Then  I  will  bid  you  good-bye  while  we  are  alone. 
I  shall  cross  the  lava  strip  and  sit  down  where  I  can  look 
out  over  the  sand  waste.  You  may  tell  Kari  that  I  shall  be 
back  in  an  hour.  (Holding  out  his  hand?)  Is  there  no  hope 
that  you  can  ever  think  of  me  without  bitterness  when  I 
am  gone? 

Halla  (takes  his  hand}.  Good-bye,  Arnes. 

Arnes.  Good-bye,  Halla.  (IValks  a  few  steps;  stops.')  When 
I  am  sitting  within  prison  walls,  I  shall  remember  you  as 
the  most  beautiful  thing  I  have  ever  seen.  [Exit. 

Halla  (stands  looking  after  him;  then  goes  to  Tot  a).  What 
a  good,  quiet  little  girl  you  are!  Getting  sleepy?  (Finds  a 
small  skin,  which  she  spreads  on  the  ground}  Now  mother  will 
sing  you  to  sleep,  as  she  did  in  the  old  times.  (Unfastens  the 
rope}  Shall  I,  Tota? 

Tota.  Yes. 

Halla  (sits  down  and  takes  her  on  her  lap}.  Then  you  must 
close  your  eyes.  (Sits  silent,  then  hums  as  she  rocks  the  child} 

Sweetly  sleep,  my  dear  young  love, 

Outside  rain  is  falling. 

Mother  safely  away  will  stow 

Horse  and  sheep  and  swan  and  dove. 

Then  we  '11  rest,  we  two,  for  night  is  calling. 


64  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

Darkness  spreads  o'er  many  a  woe, 
Sore  hearts,  broken  pledges. 
Meadows  green  laid  waste  I  saw, 
Scythe  of  sand  the  field  did  mow, 
Death  calls  from  the  glacier's  cruel  ledges. 

Are  you  asleep  ?  (She  rises  slowly,  lays  the  child  on  the  skin, 
and  covers  her  up,  then  sits  down  to  her  work.} 

Enter  Kari,  his  hair  wet  from  the  bath. 

Kari.  Do  you  know  what  I  have  a  mind  to  do? 

Halla.  You  must  not  speak  too  loud.  Tota  is  asleep.  (Kari 
goes  to  the  left.}  Where  are  you  going? 

Kari.  I  '11  be  right  back.  (Disappears  down  the  gorge.  A 
moment  later  he  comes  into  view  again.}  Some  day  when  I 
feel  good  and  strong  I  have  a  mind  to  try  to  swim  against 
the  current  all  the  way  into  the  inner  ravine.  From  here  I 
should  look  like  a  dwarf  down  there. 

Halla  (rising}.  Arnes  went  out  on  the  sands.  He  will  be 
back  in  about  an  hour.  He  has  made  up  his  mind  to  start 
on  a  trip  to  the  southland  to-morrow. 

Kari.  I  knew  he  was  longing  to  get  away  from  here. 
I  only  hope  he  will  not  come  to  harm! 

Halla  (goes  to  him}.  If  he  should  never  come  back,  we 
two  should  be  alone,  as  we  were  in  the  old  days.  (Takes  his 
hands.}  Do  you  care  a  little  for  me  yet? 

Kari.  You  know  I  do. 

Halla.  I  feel  that  I  need  to  hear  you  say  it. 

Kari  (holding  her  hands}.  And  I  show  it  far  too  seldom. 
I  forget.  You  must  tell  me  when  there  is  anything  you 
want  me  to  do.  (Kisses  her;  releases  her  hands.}  Are  you 
sorry  that  Arnes  is  going? 

Halla.  You  never  saw  the  queer  little  brook  I  found 


ACT  THIRD  65 

once.  It  welled  out  from  a  moss-covered  hillock  and  ran 
in  a  ring.  Where  it  flowed  the  banks  were  green,  but  else- 
where there  was  nothing  but  sand.  Its  whole  course  was 
no  longer  than  what  I  could  walk  in  thirty  steps.  It  seems 
to  me  that  life  is  like  that  stream. 

Enter  Arnes,  running. 

Arnes  (in  a  whisper).  They  're  coming! 

Kan  (terrified}.  What? 

Halla  (goes  to  Arnes].  Are  you  trying  to  scare  us  ? 

Arnes.  They  '11  be  here  in  a  minute.  I  counted  nine. 
You  must  flee  at  once!  There  's  no  time  to  lose. 

Halla.  I  won't  run  away  from  Tota. 

Karl.  We  stand  no  chance, three  against  nine.  You  must 
leave  her  with  them.  There  they  are!  For  God's  sake,  run! 
(Halla  is  on  the  point  of  running.} 

Bjerri 's  voice  (full  of  bitter  malice}.  Now  catch  the  foxes ! 

Halla  (startled,  stops}.  It 's  Bj0rn !  (A  terrible  expression 
as  of  madness  darkens  her  features.  She  seizes  Tota;  her  voice 
is  harsh  and  unnatural}  The  cub  he  shall  not  have ! 

Tota  (frightened  and  sleepy}.  Mother! 

Halla  (runs  sobbing  to  the  gorge}.  Tota !  Tota !  Tota !  (Dis- 
appears.} 

Kari  (who  has  remained  inert  and  dumb  with  terror  runs 
after}.  What  are  you  doing? 

(From  the  gorge  is  heard  the  scream  of  a  child,  which  is  sud- 
denly silenced.  Halla  comes  up  again.} 

Kari.  Halla!  Halla! 

Bj0rn's  voice  (very  near].  Make  haste! 

Halla  (shrieks  to  him}.  Devil ! 

Enter  Bj0rn. 
Bj0rn  (grabbing  Halla}.  Now  I  've  got  you ! 


66  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

(Kari  seizes  his  knife  and  stabs  Bj0rn  through  the  heart.  Bj0rn 
falls  dead.  Kari  and  Halla  flee.  Bj0rn's  men  enter,  stand 
as  though  paralyzed  at  the  sight  of  the  slain  man.  Arnes  goes 
slowly  up  to  them.") 


ACT  IV 

A  small  hut  in  the  hills.  Two  large  stones  covered  with  skins 
serve  as  seats.  The  low  bedstead  is  also  covered  with  skins.  On 
the  wall  hang  some  poor,  clumsy  tools.  In  the  slanting  roof,  a 
small  window  is  darkened  with  snow.  On  the  hearth,  a  low 
fire.  Outside,  a  snowstorm.  Now  and  then,  snow  comes  whirl- 
ing down  the  smoke-hole. 

Kari  is  pacing  to  and  fro,  beating  his  arms.  Hal/a  sits  si- 
lent. They  are  both  dressed  in  skins. 

Halla.  Are  you  cold? 

Kari.  I  don't  know.  (Halla  rises  and  puts  some  faggots  on 
the  fire.  Kari  takes  a  stick  from  the  wall;  counts.}  I  need  n't 
count  the  notches.  This  is  the  seventh  day  the  snowstorm 
is  raging  without  a  break,  and  it  is  past  Easter.  How  long 
do  you  think  it  can  keep  on? 

Halla.  It 's  no  use  asking  me  about  it. 

Kari  (replaces  the  stick  in  the  wall ).  If  the  walls  were  not 
frozen  so  hard,  the  storm  would  have  torn  down  the  hut 
long  ago. 

Halla.  It  is  bound  to  stop  sometime. 

Kari.  You  think  so?  It 's  four  years  now  since  that  ter- 
rible summer  when  the  sun  was  red  and  dim  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  (In  secret  awe.}  There  may  come  a  summer 
when  the  sun  does  not  rise  at  all. 

Halla.  It  was  the  ashes  that  made  the  sun  look  so  red 
that  summer. 

Kari.  I  could  well  live  a  whole  summer  without  the  sun, 
if  I  only  had  food.  (Picks  up  a  big  /£w//>.)This  fellow  has  not 
tasted  meat  in  a  whole  eternity,  {A  rapturous  ring  comes  into 
his  voice.}  I  remember  a  ram  I  once  killed;  he  was  so  fat  he 


68  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

could  hardly  walk.  (Plants  himself  in  front  of  Halla.}  If  he 
stood  there  now,  bodily,  should  you  have  strength  enough 
to  hold  his  feet  for  me? 

Halla.  I  think  I  should. 

Kari.  We  should  have  to  take  care  not  to  be  too  greedy. 
If  we  could  only  hold  back  the  first  two  days,  we  might 
eat  as  much  as  we  wanted  afterward.  (His  mouth  waters; 
he  swallows  saliva?)  You  have  seen  a  butchered  sheep  hung 
up  to  dry  in  the  wind;  its  flesh  is  as  tender  as  a  young  girl's. 
I  feel  as  though  I  could  fondle  it;  I  could  bite  it. 

Halla.  We  have  promised  each  other  not  to  speak  of 
food. 

Kari.  And  how  do  you  think  the  heart  would  taste  smok- 
ing hot  from  the  fire?  I  could  swallow  it  in  one  mouthful. 
I  should  feel  as  if  I  had  eaten,  if  I  could  only  smell  warm 
meat. 

Halla.  You  will  make  me  sick  if  you  don't  stop  talking 
about  food.  Don't  you  think  I  am  just  as  hungry  as  you 
are?  And  I  hold  my  peace. 

Kari.  Yes,  you  hold  your  peace.  (Puts  down  the  knife?)  If 
I  did  not  see  your  eyes,  I  should  think  you  were  dead, 
and  yet  you  are  human  and  living  like  myself.  Are  you 
not  ?  (Halla  is  silent.}  Or  perhaps  you  are  a  heathen  image  ? 
Must  I  kneel  down  before  you  and  pray  for  fine  weather? 
Shall  I  build  a  fire  before  you  and  stain  your  feet  with 
blood  ?  What  do  you  want  ? 

Halla.  I  want  to  be  left  in  peace. 

Kari.  You  ought  to  be  a  tree,  then  you  could  wither  in 
peace.  Why  don't  you  cry  out  like  every  living  thing  that 
suffers.  You  don't  know  how  your  calmness  racks  me. 
Even  the  trees  cry  and  moan  in  the  autumn  gales  —  they 
wail! 


ACT  FOURTH  69 

Hal/a.  I  should  wail  too,  if  there  was  any  one  that  could 
hear  me. 

Kari.  I  don't  care  whether  anybody  hears  my  screams 
or  not.  I'll  scream;  I'll  yell.  (Tells.} 

Halla  (stands  up}.  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself? 

Kari  (in  a  weak  voice).  This  cannot  last.  I  should  have 
gone  long  ago.  I  ought  to  have  gone  at  once,  the  first  day 
the  food  gave  out,  but  you  thought  every  day  that  the 
morrow  would  bring  fine  weather.  I  know  you  said  it  to 
soothe  me,  but  it  was  not  right. 

Halla.  It  was  no  use  going  to  certain  death. 

Kari.  I  should  never  be  afraid  of  getting  lost.  If  the 
snowstorm  is  ever  so  dark,  I  find  my  way.  (Raises  his  hand.} 
I  know  where  I  am  by  trend  of  the  wind. 

Halla.  If  you  were  so  sure  of  yourself,  you  ought  indeed 
to  have  gone  long  ago. 

Kari  (hardening}.  You  say  that? 

Halla.  Yes,  I  say  that. 

Kari.  Take  care !  You  have  tempted  me  to  stay  day  after 
day.  Your  believing  and  hoping  palsied  my  will.  You 
wormed  your  own  fear  into  my  heart  and  broke  my  cour- 
age. If  we  both  die  of  hunger,  the  fault  is  yours,  and  yours 
alone. 

Halla.  Is  it  my  fault? 

Kari.  You  have  lived  in  the  hills  for  sixteen  years,  and 
you  don't  know  them  more  than  a  child  does.  Perhaps  you 
think  the  snowstorm  will  have  pity?  Won't  you  open  the 
door  and  bid  the  snowstorm  be  still?  Why  don't  you? 

Halla.  You  say  that  it  is  my  fault  if  we  starve  to  death. 
Who  was  it  that  stole? 

Kari  (stands  for  a  moment  speechless}.  You  are  homely. 
I  have  never  before  seen  how  homely  you  are.  Your  face 


70  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

makes  me  think  of  the  head  of  a  dead  horse.  (Reaches  out 
his  arms.)  May  I  feel  of  your  hair  if  it  doesn't  all  come 
out? 

Halla.  Don't  touch  me! 

Kari  (lets  his  arms  fall.  An  expression  of  sadness  comes  into 
his  voice).  I  thought  you  were  the  only  one  who  understood 
that  I  could  not  help  what  I  did.  Neither  could  you  help 
what  you  have  done,  and  yet  you  are  bringing  my  misdeeds 
up  against  me. 

Halla.  Never  before  have  I  upbraided  you  for  this,  but 
you  put  the  whole  blame  on  me. 

Kari.  And  you  said  it  in  such  a  hard  tone.  It  was  as  if 
you  struck  me  with  stones. 

Halla.  My  voice  was  no  harder  than  yours. 

Kari.  It 's  becoming  in  you  to  chide  me,  as  if  you  had 
not  yourself  urged  me  to  steal  many  a  time! 

Halla.  Since  we  became  outlawed  we  have  had  a  right 
to  steal.  We  had  to  do  it  to  keep  from  starving. 

Kari.  I  thought  you  had  forgiven  me,  and  then  you  have 
beenhoardingyour  charges.  For  sixteen  years  you  have  kept 
them,  and  they  have  not  been  corrupted  either  by  rust  or 
moth. 

Halla.  Come  now,  don't  be  angry,  Kari.  I  said  it  in  the 
heat  of  temper. 

Kari.  I  am  not  angry,  but  it  hurt  so!  I  thought  that  you 
would  be  my  spokesman  before  the  Great  Judge.  If  you 
could  forgive  me,  He  might  do  it,  too. 

Halla.  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  you.  I  only  said  it  to  de- 
fend myself. 

Kari  (following  up  his  own  thoughts').  There  are  stones 
in  the  hills  that  are  blood-stained  from  my  feet;  you  must 
gather  those  and  bring  them  before  the  Great  Judge. 


ACT  FOURTH  71 

Halla.  Won't  you  take  to  weeping,  so  I  can  gather  up 
your  tears  and  bring  them  before  the  Great  Judge? 

Kari.  Are  you  mocking  me? 

Halla.  Yes;  I  won't  listen  to  your  whining  any  longer. 
Now  we  shall  sit  down  and  hold  our  peace.  (Sits  down.} 

Kari.  You  shall  not  be  worried  by  my  whining.  (Takes 
the  fur  socks  down  from  the  wall;  sits  down  and  unties  the 
straps  of  his  shoes.  Halla  watches  him  in  silence,  while  he  puts 
on  one  sock.} 

Halla.  Are  you  going? 

Kari.  Yes. 

Halla.  You  don't  ask  my  advice? 

Kari.  No,  this  time  I  don't  ask  it. 

Halla  (rising}.  When  you  go  out  of  that  door,  you  need 
not  think  of  me  any  more. 

Kari.  I  know  your  voice  when  you  are  angry.  You  ought 
to  thank  me  for  going  out  in  such  weather. 

Halla.  Yes,  you  are  brave.  It  is  not  that  you  have 
any  hope  of  saving  our  lives.  You  will  only  lie  down  in  the 
snow  and  die. 

Kari.  You  can  believe  it  if  you  like. 

Halla  (goes  to  him}.  I  beg  of  you,  let  those  hard  words  be 
forgotten. 

Kari.  It  is  not  because  of  them  that  I  am  going.  The 
worst  that  can  befall  me  is  to  die  in  the  snow,  and  that  is 
better  than  sitting  here. 

Halla.  First  of  all,  we  must  use  our  common  sense.  The 
only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  wait  here  until  the  weather 
clears. 

Kari.  And  then  the  food  will  come  flying  in  through  the 
door! 

Halla.  Not  that,  but  there  will  be  means  of  help.  We 


72  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

can  dig  up  roots  to  still  the  worst  hunger,  and  we  can  go  to 
the  lake  for  fish. 

Kari.  The  snowstorm  may  last  four  or  five  days  yet,  and 
by  that  time  we  shall  be  dead  from  hunger. 

Halla.  How  long  shall  you  be  gone? 

Kari.  Two  days  at  the  most. 

Halla  (goes  to  him  and  touches  his  shoulder).  I  beg  you  to 
stay  for  my  sake  !  We  have  lived  together  for  sixteen  years, 
and  now  let  us  also  die  together. 

Kari.  I  know  your  way  of  hiding  your  will.  Now  it 
is  your  will  that  I  should  stay,  but  this  time  you  are 
foiled. 

Halla.You.  cared  for  me  when  I  fled  with  you  to  the  hills. 
You  told  me  there  was  no  one  like  me  in  all  the  world. 
You  carried  me  across  the  streams,  until  I  grew  strong 
enough  to  ford  them  myself.  You  risked  your  life  to  get  the 
things  you  knew  I  liked.  Have  you  forgotten  ? 

Kari.  I  have  forgotten  nothing. 

Halla.  And  all  the  nights  we  slept  with  the  heavens  above 
us!  Was  it  not  blessed  to  feel  the  morning  breeze  over  your 
face  and  to  open  your  eyes  and  look  into  the  blue  sky  ?  Then 
you  kissed  me  and  said  that  you  loved  me. 

Kari.  You  shall  not  stop  me  from  going. 

Halla  (turns  away  from  him}.  I  know  why  I  have  this  fear 
of  being  alone.  It  is  because  I  am  so  far  away  from  every 
living  thing,  and  there's  no  sun  and  no  stream  here.  (Turns 
toward  him.}  If  we  feel  that  we  must  die, you  can  close  the 
smoke-hole,  and  I  will  fill  the  hut  with  smoke.  We  shall  lie 
down  side  by  side.  (Touches  his  hand.}  I  will  take  your  hand, 
and  we  shall  dream  that  we  are  going  out  into  a  sand-storm 
together. 

Kari  (harshly}.  Now  leave  me  in  peace. 


ACT  FOURTH  73 

Halla  (in  helpless  fear).  I  will  tell  you  the  truth.  I  don't 
dare  to  be  alone. 

Kari,  Are  you  afraid  of  the  dark  ? 

Halla.  When  you  are  gone,  I  know  I  shall  begin  to  listen. 
I  know  what  I  shall  hear. 

Kan.  What  do  you  hear? 

Halla.  I  hear  the  sound  of  a  great  heavy  waterfall.  I  hear 
the  screams  of  my  child.  You  must  not  leave  me. 

Kari  (turns  away}.  You  spare  me  nothing;  you  make  my 
going  as  hard  as  can  be. 

Halla.  I  forbid  you  to  go !  It 's  inhuman  to  leave  me 
here  alone.  If  you  ever  come  back,  you  will  find  me  a  mad 
beast. 

Kari.  Now  you  shall  keep. still.  I  will  not  listen  to  your 
whining  any  longer. 

Halla.  You  are  like  all  the  rest.  When  your  will  is  set, 
you  have  no  heart.  (Sits  down  silently?) 

Kari  (fastens  his  foot-gear ;  ties  a  rope  around  his  waist]. 
When  I  draw  it  tight  enough,  I  don't  feel  that  I  am  hun- 
gry. (Puts  on  a  coat  of  heavy  fur?}  You  must  watch  the  fire 
and  not  let  it  go  out.  I'll  bring  you  some  more  faggots 
from  the  wood-shed. 

Halla  (stands  up;  her  voice  is  husky}.  Better  kill  me  before 
you  go.  (Bares  her  breast.}  Stab  me  with  your  knife  —  right 
here!  I  won't  scream.  (Shuts  her  eyes.}  I  shall  think  I  am 
nursing  my  child,  and  the  little  teeth  are  biting  my  breast. 

Kari.  Have  you  gone  mad? 

Halla.  You  haven't  the  heart,  but  you  have  the  heart 
to  let  me  sit  here  all  alone.  A  wretched  little  train-oil  lamp 
you  would  put  out  before  you  went;  you  could  not  bear 
to  let  it  burn  over  nothing.  (Sits  down.} 

Kari  (stands  silent  a  long  time}.  I  have  been  guilty  of 


74  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

many  a  bad  deed,  but  so  far  as  I  know,  I  have  never  been 
cruel.  Nor  will  I  be  cruel  to  you.  (Takes  off  his  coat.}  Then 
we  shall  wait  together  as  you  wish.  Does  that  make  you 
feel  happier? 

Halla.  I  don't  know.  I  can  feel  neither  joy  nor  grief 
any  longer.  I  think  I  would  rather  be  alone. 

Kari.  You  don't  mean  that. 

Halla.  If  you  think  it  wiser  to  go,  you  must  do  so. 

Kari.  I  thought  it  would  make  you  glad  if  I  stayed. 

Halla  (rising).  If  you  had  taken  me  in  your  arms  and 
told  me  that  you  loved  me  with  all  my  wretchedness  and 
all  my  homeliness,  that  would  have  made  me  glad;  but  you 
did  not. 

Kari.  Yet  you  know  it  was  for  your  sake  I  stayed. 

Halla.  Are  you  so  sure  of  that?  Perhaps  you  were  afraid 
that  you  might  be  guilty  of  a  wrong  deed.  I  think  you  had 
in  mind  the  Great  Judge  rather  than  me. 

Kari.  I  have  once  been  judged  by  men;  that  is  why  I 
so  often  think  of  the  last  judgment. 

Halla.  I  will  have  no  talk  of  conscience  between  you 
and  me.  Be  yourself  with  me,  whether  you  are  good  or  bad. 
After  all,  you  don't  know  if  the  Great  Judge  looks  kindly 
at  what  you  call  good  deeds.  Look  at  me!  Look  at  me! 
You  could  not  be  more  cruel  to  your  worst  enemy.  Why 
was  I  given  this  hunger  and  not  the  food  to  still  it  ?  I  have 
never  wished  to  be  born.  I  would  rather  be  anything  else 
than  a  human  being.  I  would  rather  be  the  sand,  whirling 
aimlessly  over  yonder  waste.  If  there  is  a  God,  He  must 
be  cruel — but  there  is  no  God. 

Kari.  You  are  only  lashing  yourself  up.  You  ought 
rather  to  humble  yourself  and  pray  God  to  help  both  you 
and  me.  Without  Him  we  are  but  dust  and  ashes. 


ACT  FOURTH  75 

Halla.  I  want  no  mercy  any  more,  but  you  can  go 
on  calling  for  help.  (Mockingly.}  I  am  sure  He  will  hear 
you,  if  He  is  not  busy  breaking  up  the  glaciers  or  clean- 
ing out  the  gorge  of  a  volcano  to  make  it  belch  up  more 
fire. 

Kari.  Don't  say  another  word !  We  are  wretched  enough 
without  your  calling  down  new  curses  upon  us. 

Halla.  I  have  but  one  sole  and  only  wish  before  I  die, 
and  that  is  to  do  some  unheard-of  cruel  deed.  I  should  like 
to  be  a  snowslide.  I  would  come  in  the  dead  of  night.  It 
would  be  a  joy  to  see  the  people  half  naked  running  for 
their  lives — chaste  old  maids  with  gouty  hips,  and  smug 
peasant  women  with  bellies  bobbing  with  fat.  (Sits  down, 
breaks  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter,  wild  and  continued.") 

Kari.  You  have  become  a  monster.  I  am  afraid  of  you 
— afraid  of  the  only  human  being  I  care  for.  (Walks  over 
to  a  corner,  where  he  finds  his  old  Bible.  Sits  down,  turning 
the  pages  with  trembling  hands ;  reads?)  "And  it  came  to  pass 
that  as  he  was  praying  in  a  certain  place,  when  he  ceased 
one  of  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray 
as  John  also  taught  his  disciples.  And  he  said  unto  them, 
When  ye  pray,  say,  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  Hal- 
lowed be  thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done, 
as  in  heaven,  so  in  earth.  Give  us  day  by  day  our  daily 
bread.  And  forgive  us  our  sins:  for  we  also  forgive  every 
one  that  is  indebted  to  us.  And  lead  us  not  into  temptation ; 
but  deliver  us  from  evil.  For  thine  is  the  kingdom  and 
the  power  and  the  glory  for  ever.  Amen." 
(They  sit  silent  a  while.  Halla,  leaning  her  elbows  on  her  knees, 
her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  cries  softly.  Kari  rises,  stands 
silent  for  a  moment,  then  goes  to  her.} 

Kari.  You  must  not  lose  heart.  When  things  are  at  the 


76  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

worst,  they  will  mend.  Perhaps  the  storm  will  quiet  down 
during  the  night. 

Halla.  It  is  so  hard.  (Bursts  into  sobs.) 

Karl  (kneeling).  But,  dearest  Halla !  Are  you  ill  ? 

Halla  {warding  him  off}.  Let  me  alone. 

Kari  (rises  slowly}.  You  were  always  so  strong.  I  thought 
nothing  could  make  you  lose  heart. 

Halla  (looks  up.  She  has  stopped  crying;  her  voice  is  calm 
and  cold}.  You  don't  love  me  any  more.  You  have  never 
loved  me. 

Kari.  Is  that  what  you  are  crying  for? 

Halla.  Before  when  you  wanted  to  leave  me,  I  be- 
sought you  by  all  the  memories  I  thought  were  dear  to 
you.  That  did  not  touch  you.  I  humbled  myself  so  low 
that  I  would  have  thanked  you  just  for  a  little  pity  — 
that  might  have  been  an  afterglow  of  your  love,  but  you 
had  no  pity.  You  stayed  only  because  you  were  anxious 
about  your  own  soul. 

Kari.  I  stayed  also  for  your  sake. 

//#//#.  You  know  better.  You  would  rather  die  than  have 
your  God  find  you  guilty  of  an  evil  deed.  You  counted  the 
saving  of  your  soul  higher  than  your  life,  but  I  have  no 
God,  and  I  have  never  been  able  to  tell  my  soul  from  my 
love.  If  you  had  loved  me,  you  would  have  understood  that 
I  was  pleading  for  my  soul.  You  would  have  heard  it  in 
my  voice,  but  you  did  not  hear  it. 

Kari.  You  forget  that  it  was  to  save  our  lives  I  wanted 
to  go. 

Halla  (rises.  Her  eyes  are  large  and  burning}.  Why  did 
you  not  take  me  with  you? 

Kari.  If  I  had  gone  alone,  I  might  have  come  back  alive. 
The  two  of  us  would  have  been  sure  to  perish. 


ACT  FOURTH  77 

Halla  (kneels}.  I  once  dreamed  of  two  people.  To  them 
their  love  was  the  one  and  only  law.  When  they  had  lived 
a  long  life  together,  they  were  thrown  into  direst  need. 
Hunger  drew  near  to  the  fine  web  that  time  had  woven 
between  them  and  would  tear  it  asunder.  Then  they  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes,  and  together  they  walked  out  into 
the  snowstorm  to  die. 

Kari.  It  is  every  man's  duty  to  keep  alive  as  long  as 
he  can. 

Halla  (rising).  And  why  should  it  be,  when  life  has 
become  an  agony  to  ourselves  and  of  use  to  no  one? 

Kari.  It  is  the  law  of  God. 

Halla.  The  storm  writes  many  laws  in  the  sand.  (Sits 
down.}  When  my  strength  had  given  out,  you  could  have 
left  me  in  the  snow. 

Kari.  You  know  very  well  that  I  would  never  have  done 
that. 

Halla.  That  would  have  been  better  than  to  leave  me 
waiting  here.  And  I  don't  believe  that  death  is  so  hard.  The 
storm  carries  you  until  you  drop  from  weariness,  and  then 
the  snow  comes  and  covers  you  up.  (Staring  before  her  with 
eyes  wide  open.} 

Kari  (is  silent  for  a  moment}.  You  are  bitter,  because  of  our 
sore  plight.  Many  a  time  have  I  told  myself  that  I  have  been 
the  curse  of  your  life.  If  you  had  never  known  me,  you 
would  now  be  living  in  peace  and  quiet.  You  could  have 
ridden  to  church  every  Sunday,  if  you  liked.  You  would 
have  been  the  rich  and  comely  widow  with  all  the  young 
men  flocking  about  you.  I  dare  say  you  have  often  been 
sorry  that  you  fled  with  me  to  the  hills.  (Halla  is  silent.}  I 
remember  once  we  had  been  out  hunting  together  all  night. 
Early  in  the  morning  we  stood  on  the  rim  of  the  mountain 


78  EYVIND  OF  THE  HILLS 

plain  lookingdown  upon  the  fields  and  the  dwellings  of  men. 
On  some  of  the  farms,  the  fires  were  lighted  already,  and  the 
smoke  rose  straight  up  into  the  blue  air, and  the  streams  ran 
so  quietly  and  pleasantly  through  the  meadows.  I  thought 
then  that  I  could  see  the  homesickness  in  your  eyes. 

Hal/a  (starting  up,  her  voice  cold  and  calm  again).  If  I 
could  only  have  saved  my  faith  in  my  own  love,  but  I  love 
you  no  longer,  and  it  may  be  that  I  never  have  loved  you. 
As  a  child  I  used  to  live  more  in  my  dreams  than  in  the  life 
about  me.  When  I  fled  with  you  to  the  hills,  I  thought  it 
was  because  I  loved  you,  but  perhaps  it  was  only  my  long- 
ing for  the  strange  and  unknown.  Afterwards,  when  the 
days  became  harder  and  lonelier,  my  love  for  you  was  a 
shelter  which  I  would  seek  when  sorrow  for  what  I  had 
done  came  clutching  at  my  heart. 

Kari.  Say  no  more!  You  are  befouling  our  love — yours 
and  mine.  You  say  it  was  only  a  longing  for  the  unknown 
and  the  free,  unfettered  life  that  made  you  flee  with  me 
to  the  hills.  Shame  on  you !  (His  voice  is  soft  and  full  of  sad- 
ness?) I  know  what  you  have  been.  No  woman  was  ever 
greater  in  her  love  than  you.  When  the  sun  strikes  the  rim 
of  the  glacier,  it  takes  on  the  loveliest  hues,  though  in  truth 
it  is  nothing  but  dull,  colorless  clay.  So  your  love  has  been 
the  sunlight  in  my  life,  and  I  love  you — have  always  loved 
you.  When  I  was  away  from  you  even  for  a  single  day, 
I  would  long  to  see  you  and  hear  your  voice  as  eagerly 
as  I  would  long  for  the  murmur  of  a  brook  when  nearly 
dying  from  thirst.  When  I  went  hunting  and  had  good 
luck,  I  always  thought  of  you.  When  I  pictured  to  myself 
how  pleased  you  would  be,  I  forgot  all  about  my  weariness. 
But  you  must  not  ask  the  impossible  of  a  man. 

Halla  (rising).  I  am  cold.  Will  you  fetch  some  wood? 


ACT  FOURTH  79 

Kari.  Yes,  indeed.  (Goes  to  the  door;  leaves  it  ajar.}  You 
cannot  see  a  hand  before  you.  (Goes  out  and  shuts  the  door 
after  him.} 

\_Halla  goes  to  the  door,  listens,  opens  the  door.  A  cloud 
of  snow  comes  whirling  in.  Outside  the  storm  sweeps 
past.  She  takes  a  long,  lingering  look  around  the  hut, 
goes  out  into  the  doorway,  throws  her  head  back,  and 
disappears,  carried  by  the  storm. 
(The  stage  stands  empty  for  a  moment.} 

Kari  returns,  covered  with  snow,  his  arms  full  of  faggots. 

Kari.  Why  do  you  leave  the  door  open  ?  (Sees  that  Halla 
is  not  there,  drops  the  faggots,  goes  out  hurriedly,  calls.}  Halla ! 
(His  call  is  heard  outside  the  hut.  He  comes  back  into  the  door- 
way, looks  in,  cries  out.}  Almighty  God!  (Two  heart-broken 
cries  are  heard  outside,  the  latter  farther  away  and  hushed  by 
the  storm.}  Halla!  Halla! 
(The  snow  comes  whirling  into  the  empty  hut.} 


THE  HRAUN  FARM 

[GAARDEN  HRAUN] 

A    PLAY   IN   THREE  ACTS 

1912 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

SVEINUNGI,  owner  of  the  Hraun  Farm. 

JORUNN,  his  wife. 

LjOT,  their  daughter. 

EINAR,  a  relative  of  Jorunn. 

JAKOBINA,  an  old  woman. 

FRIDA,  a  child,  eleven  years  old. 

S0LVI,  a  geologist. 

JON 

INDRIDI 

HELGI 

RANNVEIG 

Bj0RG 

THORA 

A  Shepherd  Boy. 

The  action  takes  place  in  Iceland.  Time,  the  Present. 

"  Hraun  "  is  the  Icelandic  word  for  lava-field. 


Servants. 


ACT  I 

The  farm.  Five  white  gables,  all  adjoining  and  separated  by 
heavy  partitions.  The  roof  is  covered  with  turf,  the  walls  are  of 
earth  and  stone.  The  gable  farthest  to  the  left  is  without  a  door, 
but  has  two  windows  on  the  ground  floor  and  a  smaller  window 
above.  The  next  has  a  door  leading  into  the  "badstofa"  or  ser- 
vants' quarters.  The  third  is  a  dairy  and  storehouse ;  the  fourth, 
a  smithy;  the  fifth,  a  drying-shed.  In  the  yard  is  a  horse-block; 
to  the  left,  a  picket  fence.  Before  the  doors  lie  the  packs  unloaded 
from  nine  horses :  two  green  chests,  sacks  of  grain  and  household 
stuff,  lumber,  and  a  number  of  other  articles.  Jakobina  stands 
feeling  one  of  the  sacks.  Helgi  is  undoing  the  strappings.  The 
door  to  the  smithy  is  open.  Einar  is  seen  within,  forging  horse- 
shoe nails. 

It  is  morning,  before  breakfast. 

Jakobina  (talking  half  to  herself}.  This  must  be  coffee.  (Lays 
her  hand  on  one  of  the  chests.}  And  what  has  Jorunn  got  in 
these,  I  wonder!  I  fancy  there  are  many  pretty  things  there. 

Helgi.  You  may  be  sure  of  that. 

'Jakobina.  Nineteen  years  I  've  been  here  now,  and  it 's 
never  happened  yet  that  the  mistress  has  forgotten  to  bring 
something  or  other  to  please  me  when  she  came  back  from 
town, — and  it  was  n't  always  little  things  either,  God  bless 
her!  Oh,  but  there  they  have  knocked  off  the  paint.  What 
ashame!  (Sitsdownon  the  chest  and  runs  her  hand  over  the  paint?) 

Enter  Bj0rg  and  Rannveig  from  the  left,  carrying  pails  full 
of  milk,  which  they  set  down. 

Rannveig.  They  brought  home  quite  a  bit.  We  shall  not 
go  hungry  for  a  while  yet.  Where  are  they? 

Helgi.  They  are  inside,  drinking  coffee. 


84  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Bj0rg.  Is  Jon  drunk? 

Helgi.  Not  so  very;  he  's  just  a  little  gay. 

The  Shepherd  Boy.  Are  you  through  milking  already  ? 

Bj0rg.  Can't  you  see  for  yourself? 

The  Shepherd  Boy.  Oh,  pshaw!  (His  eyes  light  on  the  lum- 
ber piles.  He  bends  down  and  begins  to  count  the  knots  in  the 
wood.}  One,  two,  three — 

Enter  Sveinungi  from  the  "badstofa" 
Sveinungi.  What  do  you  say,  girls  ?  Quite  a  pack,  is  n't  it  ? 
Bj0rg.  I  should  say  so ! 

Sveinungi  (to  Helgi}.  You  've  begun  to  undo  the  strap- 
pings? That's  fine.  And  here  come  the  others. 

Enter  Jon  and  Indridifrom  the  house.  Jon  is  somewhat  intoxi- 
cated. 

Jon.  Here  stands  our  dear  master.  Good  day  to  you,  Rann- 
veig !  Good  day ! 

Bj0rg  and  Rannveig.  Good  day,  and  welcome  home  ! 

Sveinungi  (laughing}.  Why  don't  you  put  your  arms 
around  the  girls  and  give  them  a  kiss?  Are  you  afraid? 

Jon.  No,  Jon  is  n't  afraid. 

Sveinungi.  You  did  n't  get  anything  with  your  coffee. 

\_Runs  into  the  house. 

Jon.  He  is  the  same  as  ever. 

\_Bj0rg  and  Rannveig  carry  the  milk  into  the  store- 
house. 

Jakobina  (rising*).  You  did  n't  take  notice  of  anything  in 
particular  on  your  way  back? 

Indridi.  Not  that  I  remember. 

Jakobina.  Did  you  see  many  birds? 

Indridi.  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  believe  I  saw  any. 

Jakobina.  That 's  what  I  thought.     [Goes  into  the  house. 


ACT  FIRST  85 

Enter  Sveinungi  from  the  house  with  a  flask  and  a  glass,  which 
he  Jills. 

Sveinungi.  Here,  this  is  for  you. 

yon  (drinks}.  Thanks. 

Sveinungi  (fills  the  glass  again  for  Indridi  and  HeIgi}.Won't 
you  take  a  drop  too,  Einar? 

Einar  appears  in  the  doorway  of  the  smithy. 

Einar.  Thank  you.  (Drinks.} 

Sveinungi  (sees  the  Shepherd  Boy}.  Are  you  here  ?  Why,  the 
girls  are  all  through  milking.  Do  you  suppose  you  can  keep 
the  sheep  standing  in  the  fold  all  day?  (The  Shepherd  Boy 
is  about  to  go.}  Wait  a  minute !  I  have  a  little  thing  here  that 
I  bought  for  you  yesterday.  (Takes  a  knife  from  his  vest 
pocket.}  I  think  the  blade  is  good  iron,  and  that  is  the  main 
thing.  (Gives  him  the  knife.  The  Shepherd  Boy  kisses  him.}  It 
is  not  much.  You  are  welcome  to  it. 

The  Shepherd  Boy  (opens  the  knife}.  Look,  Einar,  it 's  a 
regular  hunting-knife.  (Closes  it,  runs  to  the  left,  calling.} 
Snati!  Pila!  Snati! 

Rannveig.  You  need  n't  call  the  dogs.  They  are  up  at 
the  fold.  [Exit  the  Shepherd  Boy. 

Sveinungi.  That  boy  will  amount  to  something  in  time. 
It 's  well  done  for  one  so  young  to  tend  more  than  four- 
score sheep,  and  he  hasn't  lost  one  yet. 

[Takes  the  flask  back  to  the  house. 

yon.  He's  in  mighty  good  humor  to-day,  the  old  man. 

Bj0rg.  I  should  say  so. 

Indridi.  Why,  he  got  the  highest  price  for  his  wool. 

yon.  And  a  sorry  day  it  would  be  when  we  did  n't  get  that ! 

Indridi.  What  do  you  think  Jakobina  had  in  mind  when 
she  asked  about  the  birds? 


86  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Jon,  It 's  hard  to  tell!  She  has  her  mind  on  so  many  things. 
Enter  Sveinungi  and  Jorunn  from  the  house. 

Sveinungi  (in  the  door,  laughing  and  talking).  I  believe  the 
girls  have  their  eye  on  the  green  chests.  Indridi,  will  you 
carry  them  in  ?  [Indridi  goes  with  one  of  the  chests. 

'Jorunn.  You  can  put  them  in  the  little  room. 

Sveinungi.  Rannveig,  will  you  bring  me  the  key  to  the 
drying-shed?  You  know  where  it  hangs.  (Rannveig  runs 
in.}  You  boys  will  have  to  carry  the  breadstuff's  up  into  the 
loft  of  the  storehouse,  and  the  coffee  and  sugar  too,  and 
while  I  think  of  it,  you  had  better  take  one  sack  out  to  the 
mill,  Helgi. 

Helgi.  I  will. 

Sveinungi  (opening  a  bag).  Here,  Einar,  you  '11  find  iron 
and  nails  and  brazil-wood,  and  here  's  something  for  your- 
self. (Hands  him  a  plug  of  tobacco?)  See  if  you  can  be  a  bit 
saving  of  it. 

Einar  (pats  him  on  the  shoulder}.  God  bless  you ! 

[Goes  into  the  smithy. 

Rannveig  (comes  out}.  Here  is  the  key. 

Sveinungi  (unlocks  the  door  to  the  drying-shed}.  You  can 
stack  the  timber  on  top  of  the  old  pile.  After  you  have  had 
your  breakfast,  you,  Jon,  and  Indridi  had  better  go  and  lie 
down.  You  must  be  tired. 

Jon.  I  am  sure  I  could  keep  on  working  all  day  if  need 
be,  and  just  as  hard  as  those  who  have  had  their  sleep. 
(Indridi  comes  for  the  other  chest.} 

Sveinungi  (laughs}.  There  are  not  many  like  you. 

Jorunn.  Where  is  Ljot  ?  I  thought  she  was  here. 

Helgi.  I  saw  her  walking  in  the  yard.  I  have  not  seen 
her  come  back. 


ACT  FIRST  87 

Sveinungi  (goes  to  the  picket  fence;  calls).  Ljot! 

Ljot  (is  heard  answering).  Yes ! 

Sveinungi.  Are  you  there?  Aren't  you  coming  home? 

Ljot  (is  heard  answering).  I  am  coming. 

Jorunn.  Have  you  set  the  milk? 

Rannveig.  Yes. 

Jorunn.  Then  come  in,  if  you  want  to  see  what  I  have 
bought. 

Einar  (steps  out  into  the  door  of  the  smithy.  He  holds  a  snuff- 
box in  his  hand,  and  is  rolling  up  a  long  plug  of  tobacco,  which 
he  puts  into  the  box).  This  tastes  better;  the  old  stuff  was  get- 
ting as  dry  as  hay.  (Spits.)  Oh,  well,  there  was  a  time,  but 
that 's  so  long  ago. 

Helgi.  What  are  you  talking  about? 

Einar.  It  was  a  winter  night,  and  I  was  lying  in  wait  for 
the  fox.  Well,  what  happened  was  neither  more  nor  less 
than  this,  that  when  I  wanted  to  take  a  chew  of  tobacco, 
I  found  I  'd  left  the  box  at  home.  I  can  stand  it  for  one 
night,  I  thought,  but  it  was  cold  where  I  was  lying,  and 
the  fox  made  himself  scarce.  Let  me  tell  you,  when  I  had 
been  waiting  till  nearly  dawn,  I  'd  gladly  have  given  my 
soul  for  a  good  honest  chew. 

(Ljot  passes  through  from  the  right,  carrying  some  freshly  gath- 
ered flowers  in  her  hand.  Goes  into  the  house.} 

Helgi.  And  did  you  get  the  fox  ? 

Einar.  I  did.  It  came  just  as  I  was  about  to  go  home. 

Enter  Indridi  from  the  house. 

Jon.  When  you  got  home,  I  'm  sure  you  went  straight 
for  a  good  big  plug  of  tobacco. 

Einar.  Maybe  I  did !  It  was  the  finest  blue  fox  I  've  ever 
shot. 


88  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Enter  Frida  from  the  left.  She  is  warm  from  running. 

Frida.  Now  I  've  turned  the  horses  out  on  the  grass. 
(Wipes  her  forehead?)  Do  you  want  me  to  pull  the  bellows 
for  you  ? 

Einar.  You'd  better  go  in  and  see  if  Jorunn  should  hap- 
pen to  have  something  for  you.  Then  you  can  come  back 
here.  \Frida  runs  in. 

Enter  Bj0rg  and  Rannveig  from  the  house. 

Bj0rg.  See  what  the  mistress  has  brought  for  me !  (Hold- 
ing up  a  piece  of  cloth.}  It  will  be  fun  to  make  that  into  an 
apron. 

Rannveig.  I  got  a  head-kerchief  with  red  flowers  (holds 
it  up}  and  a  piece  of  soap.  (Smells  it.} 

yon.  May  I?  (Smells  it.}  You'll  be  good  to  kiss,  when 
you  have  washed  with  that  soap. 

Rannveig.  Only  I  won't  let  you. 

Thora  (in  the  doorway}.  I  must  show  you  what  I  got,  too. 

Enter  S0lvifro?n  the  left,  carrying  a  gun  over  his  shoulder  and 
a  small  knapsack  on  his  back. 

S0lvi.  Good  day  to  you ! 

The  Servants.  Good  day ! 

Indridi.  We  did  not  see  you  coming. 

S0lvi.  I  took  the  short  cut.  May  I  have  something  to 
drink?  I  am  thirsty. 

Rannveig.  I  '11  get  it  for  you. 

S0lvi  (lowering  his  voice}.  And  may  I  see  Ljot  for  a 
moment?  I  have  something  for  her. 

Rannveig.  I  '11  tell  her.  [Exeunt  Girls. 

Indridi.  Have  you  any  news? 

S0lvi.  No. 

Indridi.  You  are  still  at  Hoi? 


ACT  FIRST  89 

S0lvi.  Yes. 

Indridi.  Have  they  begun  to  cut  the  hay? 
S0lvi.  Not  yet. 

Indridi.  They  generally  start  before  any  of  the  other 
farms. 

S0lvi.  They  need  to.  They  don't  keep  much  help. 

Enter  Rannveig  with  the  milk. 

Rannveig.  Here  it  is,  and  you  are  welcome  to  it. 

S0lvi  (drinks).  Thanks. 

Rannveig.  I  have  told  Ljot.  [Goes  in. 

Helgi.  Here,  give  me  a  hand!  (Indridi  lifts  the  sack  to 
Helgi's  back;  Helgi.  carries  it  out  to  the  left.} 

Jon  (coiling  the  last  ropes}.  We  can  start  carrying  the  lum- 
ber into  the  shed. 

Enter  Ljot  from  the  house. 

S0lvi.  Good  day  to  you,  Ljot! 

Ljot.  Good  day!  You  wished  to  see  me? 

S0lvi.  You  won't  be  angry  with  me?  —  I  thought  per- 
haps you  would  like  this.  (Takes  the  skin  of  a  duck  from  his 
knapsack.}  I  shot  it  on  the  creek  the  other  day, and  I  thought 
it  was  so  pretty  that  I  took  off  the  skin  and  dried  it.  Do  you 
think  you  could  make  use  of  it  —  say  for  a  riding-cap? 

Ljot.  It  is  beautiful. 

S0lvi.  When  you  hold  the  wing  this  way  the  spot  is  blue, 
and  when  you  hold  it  so  it  is  green;  it 's  the  way  the  light 
falls. 

Ljot.  I  doubt  if  I  dare  take  it.  I  scarcely  know  you. 

S0hi.  You  would  make  me  very  happy  if  you  would 
take  it. 

Ljot.  Then  I  will,  and  thank  you.  (Gives  him  her  hand.} 
How  lovely  it  is! 


90  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

S0lvi  (lowering  his  voice).  Do  you  never  go  for  a  walk  by 
yourself  in  the  hraun? 

Ljot.  Why  do  you  ask? 

S0lvi.  You  know  the  pretty  spot  by  the  old  roan  tree; 
it  is  not  more  than  a  good  ten  minutes'  walk  from  here. 
I  thought  perhaps  you  might  go  there  sometimes  on  Sun- 
days. 

Ljot  (blushes).  I  don't  know  — 

S0lvi.  I  shall  be  there  all  day  Sunday.  Good-bye,  Ljot. 

Ljot  (confused^.  Good-bye. 

S0lvi.  I  shall  be  there  at  sunrise,  and  I  shall  be  there 
when  the  sun  goes  down.  [Exit  to  the  left. 

Enter  Sveinungi,  hurriedly. 

Sveinungi.  Who  was  it  that  went  just  now? 

Indridi.  Is  he  gone?  It  was  S01vi. 

Sveinungi.  What  did  he  want  here? 

Indridi.  He  got  a  cup  of  milk. 

Sveinungi  (to  Ljot).  It  seemed  to  me  he  was  talking  to 
you.  What  have  you  there? 

Ljot.  He  gave  me  a  bird's  skin. 

Sveinungi.  Pshaw !  You  should  have  made  him  keep  it 
himself. 

Ljot.  There  was  no  harm  meant. 

Sveinungi.  Einar  could  have  brought  you  down  one  just 
like  it,  if  you  had  cared  for  it.  Why  are  you  blushing  so? 

Ljot.  I  did  not  think  you  would  be  so  angry  because 
I  took  the  bird's  skin. 

Sveinungi.  I  can't  bear  him,  that  stone-picker!  He  roves 
from  place  to  place  like  a  tramp.  Let  him  dare  to  set  his 
nets  for  you!  Give  me  the  creature,  and  I  '11  hand  it  back 
to  him  next  time  he  comes;  for  he  's  sure  to  come. 


ACT  FIRST  91 

Ljot.  I  can  burn  it  myself,  if  you  grudge  me  the  keep- 
ing it.  [Goes  in. 

Sveinungi  (talking  in  the  doorway}.  And  then  you  get  angry 
to  boot.  (To  Indridi.}  I  see  you  have  undone  all  the  strap- 
pings. 

Indridi.  Yes. 

Sveinungi.  Where  is  Helgi? 

Indridi.  He  went  to  the  mill. 

Enter  Helgi  from  the  left. 

Sveinungi.  There  he  comes.  Then  you  can  do  what  I 
told  you.  [Goes  in. 

Helgi.  Anything  amiss?  The  master  seemed  cross. 
Indridi.  That  's  nothing. 
Helgi.  Is  S01vi  gone? 

Indridi.  Yes.  Let 's  get  through  with  this.  You  go  into 

the  storehouse  and  take  the  things  as  I  hand  them  to  you. 

[They  carry  the  breadstuff's  into  the  storehouse. 

Einar  appears  in  the  door  of  the  smithy. 

Einar.  H'm,  I  feel  I  'm  getting  old.  There  was  a  time 
when  I  could  forge  three  nails  in  one  heating,  and  now  it 's 
a  hard  rub  getting  through  with  one. 

Indridi.  We  can't  be  young  more  than  once. 

Einar.  And  we  can't  cast  the  slough  of  old  age,  as  they 
could  once  upon  a  time. 

Indridi.  Would  you  care  to? 

Einar.  I  don't  know.  I  almost  think  these  new  times 
are  not  for  me. 

Enter  Frida. 

Frida.  Einar,  I  was  to  call  you  to  breakfast..(^««j  against 
Sveinungi,  who  is  coming  out.} 

Sveinungi.  There,  there!  Why,  you  have  brought  it  all 


92  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

under  cover  and  the  ropes  in  the  shed.  That 's  fine.  Now, 
Helgi,  when  you  have  eaten,  you  can  go  and  begin 
to  cut  turf.  The  others  will  join  you  when  they  have 
had  their  sleep.  (Lowering  his  voice.')  Einar,  will  you  ask 
Ljot  to  come  out?  I  want  to  have  a  little  talk  with 
her. 

Einar.  I  will.  \_Einar  and  Frida  go  in. 

(Sveinungi  locks  the  drying-shed  and  looks  into  the  storehouse, 
pretending  to  be  very  busy.} 

Enter  Ljot  from  the  house. 

Ljot.  Here  I  am,  father. 

Sveinungi.  I  did  not  hearyou.(i$Wzz'/W.)  You  step  as  lightly 
as  a  young  foal.  You  are  not  hurt  at  what  I  said  a  mo- 
ment ago?  It  was  only  for  your  own  good.  I  won't  have 
any  shiftless  straggler  around  here  making  eyes  at  you.  The 
parish  can  gossip  about  something  else.  (Ljot  goes  to  the 
fence,  resting  her  hands  on  it.)  But  that  was  not  what  I  wanted 
to  talk  to  you  about.  (Goes  to  her.)  You  know  Arne,  the 
farmer  at  Skrida.  You  have  seen  his  son  Halfdan.  What  do 
you  think  of  him? 

Ljot.  I  have  seen  him  only  a  few  times. 

Sveinungi.  There  are  two  brothers.  The  older  one  is 
married  and  is  going  to  take  the  farm,  but  Halfdan  is  most 
like  his  father.  You  should  see  the  way  their  place  is  kept. 
Their  yard  is  nearly  as  big  as  this,  and  there  are  long 
stretches  where  the  grass  stands  so  high  that  it  falls  over. 
It's  as  fine  a  sight  as  I  have  ever  seen.  We  stopped  there, 
Jorunn  and  I,  for  a  full  hour,  on  our  way  back  from  town, 
and  there  was  no  lack  of  welcome.  Can  you  guess  what 
we  talked  about? 

Ljot.  No. 


ACT  FIRST  93 

Sveinungi  (laughs}.  You  can't?  Arne  asked  me  whether 
I  would  have  his  son  Halfdan  for  a  son-in-law. 

Ljot.  And  what  did  you  say? 

Sveinungi.  I  said  I  had  nothing  against  it  —  quite  the 
contrary.  I  should  be  content  if  you  had  a  husband  like 
him,  and  we  are  getting  old,  your  mother  and  I.  We  don't 
know  when  death  may  strike  us.  It  may  come  at  any  time, 
and  I  should  like  to  see  the  man  who  is  to  take  my  place 
when  I  am  gone. 

Ljot.  I  don't  think  you  are  getting  old. 

Sveinungi.  Oh,  yes,  I  feel  it.  Sometimes  when  I  want 
to  use  this  or  that  for  my  work  I  find  that  I  have  clean 
forgotten  where  I  put  it.  That  could  never  have  happened 
when  I  was  young;  there  was  not  a  thing  that  slipped  my 
mind.  But  what  do  you  say,  Ljot?  Your  mother  thinks  as 
I  do,  so  it  lies  solely  with  you  whether  you  will  accept  this 
happiness  or  not. 

Ljot.  I  don't  think  I  care  for  that  happiness. 

Sveinungi.  You  should  weigh  your  words  well  before  you 
speak.  Perhaps  you  fancy  there  will  be  a  wooer  like  Half- 
dan  coming  every  day.  But  you  don't  mean  that;  you  only 
mean  that  he  must  come  and  speak  for  himself. 

Ljot.  I  am  so  young,  father. 

Sveinungi.  You  are  past  nineteen.  There  are  many  girls 
who  marry  at  seventeen,  and  you  have  been  so  well  taught 
that  you  can  readily  take  your  place  at  the  head  of  a  house- 
hold. I  need  not  be  ashamed  of  you  there,  that 's  sure.  And 
you  will  have  your  mother  near  you,  for  it  is  understood, 
of  course,  that  you  and  Halfdan  stay  here  with  us.  You  will 
have  your  bridal  now  in  the  fall,  and  next  spring  you  can 
take  over  the  farm. 

Ljot.  But  I  scarcely  know  him  at  all! 


94  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Sveinungi.  Your  mother  did  not  know  me,  and  I  can't 
see  but  that  we  two  have  lived  happily  together  all  these 
years.  It  is  not  always  those  who  marry  for  what  they  call 
love  who  are  happiest.  Arne  and  I  are  friends  from  old 
times,  and  I  have  as  good  as  given  him  my  word. 

Enter  Jorunn  from  the  house. 

Ljot  (straightening  herself^).  You  should  not  have  done 
that  without  speaking  to  me. 

Sveinungi.  What  has  come  over  you  ?  Do  you  mean  to 
go  right  against  the  will  of  your  parents?  I  can  tell  you  one 
thing,  if  it  is  this  tramp  you  are  thinking  of,  it  shall  never 
come  to  pass.  Not  as  long  as  I  live.  [Goes  in. 

Jorunn.  Your  father  was  angry.  What  were  you  talking 
about  ? 

Ljot.  He  wants  me  to  marry  a  man  I  don't  know. 

Jorunn.  Does  he  ?  You  cannot  say  of  Halfdan  that  he 
is  a  man  you  don't  know. 

Ljot.  We  have  never  spoken  a  word  to  each  other. 

Jorunn.  Yet  he  has  been  here  several  times.  Once  he 
stayed  overnight.  Besides  you  have  heard  him  spoken  of, 
and  you  know  his  people.  Everybody  knows  the  Hofstad 
people. 

Ljot.  Father  has  given  his  word  without  asking  me.  He 
had  no  right  to  do  that. 

Jorunn.  You  have  worked  yourself  up,  Ljot.  I  don't 
understand  you.  Can  it  really  be  that  you  have  promised 
yourself  to  some  one  without  letting  your  parents  know 
it? 

Ljot.  I  have  not. 

Jorunn.  You  need  not  hide  anything  from  me.  If  you 
have  given  your  word,  you  must  keep  it. 


ACT  FIRST  95 

Ljot.  I  told  you  that  I  have  not. 

Jorunn.  You  could  not  tell  your  old  mother  a  falsehood ! 
But  if  you  are  free  and  not  bound  by  any  promise,  this 
puzzles  me.  Halfdan  is  young  and  a  capable  man,  and  his 
father  is  one  of  the  richest  and  most  respected  farmers  in 
the  countryside. 

Ljot.  But  I  don't  care  for  him.  You  can't  mean  that  I 
should  marry  a  man  I  don't  care  for.  (Leans  over  the  fence.} 

'Jorunn.  Once  you  are  married  you  will  come  to  care  for 
him.  (Goes  to  her.}  It  is  a  great  step  you  are  about  to  take. 
Weigh  your  words  well,  so  that  you  may  not  rue  them. 
Be  careful  not  to  thrust  away  happiness  when  she  reaches 
out  her  hand  to  you, or  there  may  come  a  day  when  you  will 
repent.  You  must  know  that  your  parents  wish  nothing 
but  what  is  good  for  you. 

Ljot  (with  tears  in  her  voice}.  It  seems  to  me  you  are 
against  me,  both  you  and  father. 

'Jorunn  (stroking  her  hair}.  I  believe  you  are  hiding  some- 
thing from  your  mother.  I  think  I  know  what  it  is.  You 
were  very  much  pleased  with  the  bird's  skin  you  got 
to-day.  (Ljot  is  silent.}  The  winter  your  father  asked  me  in 
marriage  there  came  to  my  home  a  man  who  used  to  go 
from  farm  to  farm  doing  odd  carpenter  jobs.  One  evening 
I  carried  his  coffee  to  him  where  he  was  at  work.  He  had 
a  big  chest  standing  there  that  he  kept  his  tools  in.  I  can 
remember  it  plainly;  it  was  yellow.  I  stood  waiting  for  him 
to  finish  his  coffee  so  that  I  could  take  the  cup  back,  when 
he  took  out  of  the  chest  a  work-box  —  the  prettiest  thing 
I've  ever  seen.  It  was  of  dark  brown  wood,  the  lid  round, 
with  pictures  of  animals  carved  on  it.  He  made  me  a  pres- 
ent of  it,  and  when  I  was  about  to  go,  he  asked  me  for  a 
kiss,  but  I  would  not  give  it  to  him. 


96  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Ljot.  You  never  told  me  about  this. 

Jorunn.  He  was  a  good-looking  man,  with  big  brown 
eyes.  Well,  when  your  father  came,  my  father  and  mother 
both  wanted  me  to  become  his  wife.  It  was  not  altogether 
easy  for  me,  but  I  would  not  go  against  their  wishes.  I 
thought  it  my  duty  to  please  them,  and  besides  the  other 
man  had  never  asked  me  straight  out. 

Ljot.  But  he  was  the  one  you  cared  for. 

Jorunn.  Perhaps  I  thought  so  at  the  time.  (Silence.}  He 
went  away  on  the  night  he  heard  that  I  was  promised  to 
your  father.  A  year  after  I  married  your  father,  he  was 
drowned — some  thought  he  had  taken  his  own  life. 

Ljot.  Maybe  that  was  your  doing. 

Jorunn.  How  can  you  say  such  a  thing  to  your  mother! 

Ljot.  Don't  be  angry  with  me,  mother. 

Jorunn.  A  man  who  cannot  bear  his  fate  is  not  worth 
much.  I  should  not  have  been  happy  as  his  wife,  and  I 
could  not  wish  for  a  better  man  than  your  father.  When 
two  people  live  together  a  whole  lifetime  and  have  an  hon- 
est will  to  do  what  is  right  by  each  other,  they  will  come 
to  care  for  each  other,  as  the  years  go  by.  (Silence.^  I  have 
told  you  this  so  that  you  may  think  it  over,  but  if  you  feel 
in  your  own  heart  that  it  is  right  to  go  against  the  wishes 
of  your  parents,  then  you  will  have  to  do  so.  (Ljot  is  silent.') 
You  say  nothing,  my  child?  I  have  tried  as  best  I  could, 
in  my  poor  way,  to  do  what  seemed  my  duty.  I  cannot  give 
my  daughter  any  other  or  better  advice.  When  the  hour  of 
sorrow  comes,  as  it  must  come  to  you  too,  there  is  nothing 
else  that  can  bring  you  peace. 

Ljot.  I  will  do  as  you  wish. 

Jorunn.  I  always  knew  that  I  had  a  good  daughter. 
(Strokes  her  hair.}  How  glad  your  father  will  be!  This  will 


ACT  FIRST  97 

be  a  great  day  for  him,  and  you  will  never  regret  that  you 
did  as  your  parents  wished.  [Goes  in. 

(Ljot  stands  alone?) 

Enter  Einar  and  Frida  from  the  house. 
Einar  (to  Frida).  You  can  start  the  bellows.  I  hope  the 
fire  has  not  gone  out.  [They  go  into  the  smithy. 

Enter  Helgi  from  the  house.  He  goes  into  the  smithy  and  comes 
out  again  with  a  turf-spade  in  his  hand. 

Einar  (in  the  door).  Shall  you  be  home  for  dinner? 
Helgi.  No,  the  others  will  bring  it  to  me. 

[Exit  to  the  left. 
Enter  Sveinungi. 

Sveinungi.  Are  you  here  ?  Won't  you  come  in  and  talk 
to  your  father?  (Patting  her  shoulder.}  This  is  the  happiest 
day  in  my  life  since  the  time  I  got  your  mother.  [They  go  in. 

Enter  Jakobina  with  a  plate  of  chicken-feed  in  her  hand ;  goes 
to  the  door  of  the  smithy. 

Jakobina.  Is  Frida  there?  Can  you  spare  her  while  she 
runs  over  to  the  chickens  for  me  with  their  food  ? 

Einar.  Yes,  indeed.         [Frida  goes  with  the  chicken-feed. 

Jakobina  (sits  down  on  the  horse-block^.  I  had  such  a  queer 
dream  last  night.  I  thought  I  was  standing  out  there  in 
the  yard,  and  I  saw  a  giant  come  striding  across  the  hraun. 
I  saw  him  stop  right  there — he  stood  with  arms  stretched 
out  and  bent  down  over  the  house. 


ACT  II 

A  grass-grown  yard,  some  rocks  partly  sunk  in  the  ground.  In 
the  foreground,  farthest  to  the  right,  a  tent.  In  the  background, 
to  the  left,  the  farm-house.  In  the  outskirts  of  the  yard  a  sheep- 
house  with  the  roof  and  part  of  the  walls  in  ruins.  Beyond  it, 
the  "  hraun"  a  lava-field  stretching  for  miles,  studded  with 
jutting  rocks  and  lava  formations. 
It  is  evening  of  the  same  day. 

The  Servants  (seated,  singing). 

God  the  power  unending 
Rests  with  Thee  alone. 
Cherubim  are  bending 
Low  before  Thy  throne. 
From  Thy  Heaven  hear  me! 
Weak  and  soiled  am  I, 
Wounds  and  sorrows  sear  me, 
Fainting  I  draw  nigh. 
Is  there  then  another  way? 
Sorrow's  rising  hills  may  they 
Not  reach  up  to  heaven,  pray? 
Help  me — lest  I  die. 

(  They  cover  their  eyes  in  prayer.  Silence?) 

Jorunn  (uncovers  her  ^«).The  peace  of  God  be  with  us. 
(The  Servants  rise  and  shake  hands.} 

Jorunn  (patting  Fridays  cheek}.  Now  you  must  not  be 
afraid  of  the  earthquake  any  more.  When  we  trust  in  Him, 
no  harm  can  befall  us.  (Gathers  the  hymn-books.}  Please  take 
the  books  back  to  the  tent,  Ljot;  it's  a  little  too  early 
yet  to  go  in.  (Ljot  goes  with  the  books.}  And  you  may  fetch 
the  shoes  I  was  sewing.  I  left  them  in  there. 


ACT  SECOND  99 

(Some  sit  on  the  rocks,  others  squat  in  the  grass.  Only  Sveinungi 
remains  standing.^) 

Ljot  (coming  from  the  tent).  Here  are  the  shoes, 
mother. 

Jorunn.  Thank  you,  daughter. 
(Ljot  lies  down  in  the  grass,  gazing  out  over  the  "hraun."J 

Indridi.  Did  you  hear  the  church-bells  ringing? 

Einar.  I  did  not  hear  them. 

Jorunn.  I  did.  They  rang  of  themselves. 
(Silence^ 

Indridi.  Where  were  you,  Thora,  when  the  shock 
came  ? 

Thora.  In  the  kitchen. 

Indridi.  It's  your  week,  isn't  it? 

Thora.  I  don't  know  how  I  ever  got  out,  for  the  whole 
floor  heaved  under  me,  so  that  I  was  thrown  right  against 
the  wall,  and  you  should  have  seen  me  when  I  came  out 
— all  black  from  the  falling  soot. 

Jon.  And  the  rest  of  you  —  where  were  you? 

Bj0rg.  We  were  sitting  in  the  badstofa,  sorting  wool. 

Rannveig.  It  felt  as  if  some  one  was  shaking  the  roof  and 
trying  to  pull  up  the  whole  house. 

Indridi.  We  were  just  about  to  leave  our  work  and  run 
home  to  hear  how  you  had  fared,  but  then  I  thought  they 
would  be  sure  to  send  us  word  (looking  askance  at  Sveinungi^ 
if  anything  had  happened.  Besides,  we  wanted  to  get  enough 
turf  cut  while  we  were  at  it  so  that  we  should  not  have  to 
go  back  another  time. 

Jon.  But  I  must  say  that  when  I  began  working  again, 
it  went  against  me.  It  was  like  cutting  into  a  living  thing 
—  like  skinning  a  live  animal. 

Rannveig.  Ugh,  yes. 


ioo  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Jon.  And  the  place  where  we  'd  cut  turf  last  year  looked 
like  an  ugly  scar. 
(Silence.} 

Jorunn.  Did  you  meet  anybody  when  you  came  home 
from  work? 

Indridi.  No. 

'Jorunn.  And  no  outsider  has  been  here  this  afternoon. 
They  don't  come  when  they  are  wanted.  I  ought  to  have 
sent  one  of  you  to  the  next  farm  to  find  out  how  things 
were  there,  anyway. 

Jon.  I  can  easily  go  yet,  if  mistress  wants  me  to. 

Jorunn.  Oh,  no,  it 's  getting  late.  I  hope  we  shall  have 
no  bad  tidings  from  any  one. 

Indridi.  I  hope  so,  too. 

Jon.  I  'm  afraid  the  Vik  farm-house  has  fallen.  It  is  both 
old  and  poorly  built  —  nothing  like  ours. 
(Silence.} 

Einar.  You  should  have  seen  the  hawks,  Jorunn,  right 
after  the  shock.  They  kept  flying  back  and  forth,  just  as 
they  do  when  they  're  warding  off  a  foe  from  their  nest. 

Jorunn.  They  were  frightened. 

Einar.  And  no  wonder.  Great  pieces  of  rock  came  tum- 
bling down  into  the  creek.  The  sheep  out  on  the  heath 
yonder  huddled  together  in  flocks,  looking  like  old  snow. 

Jon.  Then  you  were  out  hunting. 

Einar.  No,  I  was  not  hunting.  I  was  looking  at  the 
hawks,  wondering  whether  one  could  get  at  them  by  going 
down  in  a  rope. 
(Silence.} 

Jorunn.  What  about  the  boy,  Sveinungi?  Do  you  mean 
to  let  him  stay  with  the  sheep  all  night? 

Sveinungi.  Certainly.  He  can  sleep  to-morrow. 


ACT  SECOND  101 

Jorunn.  I  was  only  thinking  he  might  be  afraid  to  be 
alone. 

Sveinungi.  He  's  no  more  afraid  than  grown  people. 

Jorunn.  I  saw  he  took  both  the  dogs  with  him. 
(Silence.) 

Helgi.  There  was  a  man  walking  across  the  hraun  a 
little  while  ago.  Who  can  it  be? 

Indridi.  I  saw  him  too. 

Jon.  It  was  S01vi.  He  carried  his  gun. 
(Silence?) 

Ljot.  How  still  it  is  on  the  hraun. 

Einar.  I  thought  you  were  listening  for  something,  while 
you  lay  there  quiet  as  a  mouse.  I  thought  you  were  listen- 
ing for  the  earthquake. 

Frida.  Can  one  hear  the  earthquake  when  it  is  coming? 

Rannveig.  Are  you  afraid?  Yes,  sometimes  it  can  be 
heard  a  little  before  the  shock.  They  say  it  sounds  like  the 
clatter  of  hoofs  from  many  hundred  horses. 

Bj0rg.  To  me  it  sounded  like  the  whistling  of  the 
wind. 

Jorunn.  You  should  sit  down, Sveinungi.  You  '11  get  tired 
standing. 

Sveinungi.  I  am  not  tired. 
(Silence.) 

Frida.  What  if  the  earth  should  open  up  right  here 
where  we  are  sitting? 

Rannveig.  It  won't.  Who  told  you  that  it  might? 

Frida.  Jakobina  said  so. 

Rannveig.  You  must  not  listen  to  all  she  says;  she  talks 
so  much. 

Jakobina.  I  say  nothing  but  what  is  true.  At  the  time  of 
the  last  great  earthquake  the  ground  cracked  and  made  a 


102  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

fissure  many  miles  long;  I  saw  it  myself.  The  earth  opened 
her  mouth  to  breathe. 

Einar  (to  Fridd).  Don't  be  afraid.  I  have  a  black  lamb 
— do  you  remember  it? — with  white  feet.  When  I  get  it 
home  in  the  fall,  I  will  give  it  to  you. 

Jakobina  (facing  the  "hraun  ").  Not  one  of  you  knows 
the  hraun  as  I  do.  Can  you  tell  me  why  the  hollows  out 
there  are  never  filled  with  snow?  Have  you  ever  seen  the 
snow  falling  fast  enough  to  cover  even  the  rims  around 
them?  It's  the  earth  blowing  her  breath  against  it.  The 
earth  sets  traps  for  men;  the  earth  is  a  man-eater. 

Jorunn  (to  Jakobina\.  You  must  not  frighten  the  child. 
(Silence?) 

Sveinungi.  Was  n't  it  you,  Jakobina,  who  said  that  some- 
times blood  comes  on  the  window-panes?  It  bodes  ill,  they 
say. 

Jakobina.  Why  do  you  ask?  There  is  no  one  here  who 
has  seen  it,  is  there  ? 

Sveinungi.  Never  mind  why  I  ask. 

'Jakobina.  Well,  if  I  must  say  it,  it  is  a  sign  that  some 
one  in  the  house  is  going  to  die  soon. 

Sveinungi.  Or  it  might  bode  ill  to  the  farm  itself,  maybe. 

'Jakobina.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Sveinungi.  That  it  might  be  doomed. 

Jorunn.  Indeed,  it  means  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
It 's  nothing  but  a  silly  old  superstition. 

Sveinungi.  Not  that  I  believe  in  it,  but  look  at  the  win- 
dows. Don't  they  look  as  if  they  were  wet  with  blood? 

yorunn.  It 's  the  sun  shining  on  them. 

Sveinungi.  And  see  the  gables,  how  white  they  are.  They 
don't  look  whiter  from  the  fields  down  yonder  when  you 
spread  a  cloth  over  them  to  call  me  home. 


ACT  SECOND  103 

Indridi  (lowering  his  voice}.  Did  you  see  the  sheep-cot 
fall? 

Thora.  Yes,  it  happened  just  as  we  came  out. 

Indridi.  What  did  Sveinungi  say? 

Thora.  He  said  nothing. 

Indridi.  But  he  told  us  to  move  out  here. 

Thora.  No,  it  was  Jorunn  who  made  us  do  it. 

Sveinungi  (to  Jorunn).  I  did  not  tell  you  that  when  I  came 
into  the  badstofa,  right  after  the  shock,  our  old  clock  had 
stopped  running. 

'Jorunn.  Was  it  broken  ? 

Sveinungi.  No,  when  I  touched  the  pendulum  it  started 
again,  but  the  place  was  still  >as  death  when  I  entered.  The 
grass  on  the  roof  cast  a  shadow  over  the  skylight.  It  was 
as  quiet  as  when  my  father  lay  dead. 

Jorunn.  I  think  we  had  better  go  and  lie  down.  There  's 
nothing  gained  by  staying  here  any  longer. 

Sveinungi.  I  can't  see  that  there  was  any  need  of  mov- 
ing out,  but  you  had  your  way,  Jorunn. 

Jorunn.  I  feel  sure  that  they  have  done  the  same  on  all 
the  other  farms.  We  must  be  thankful  it  is  summer,  so  that 
we  can  stay  outdoors. 

Sveinungi.  Must  we  be  thankful  ?  So  you  give  thanks  that 
my  work  is  ruined. 

Jorunn.V^e  must  take  what  comes,  whether  good  or  evil, 
and  trouble  may  help  us  to  remember  all  the  things  we  have 
neglected  to  give  thanks  for. 

Sveinungi.  I  don't  know  but  that  I  have  always  done  my 
duty.  I  have  built  all  the  sheep-cots;  I  have  fenced  in  the 
land  and  looked  after  it  as  best  I  could.  I  demand  justice 
of  Him  up  there. 

Jorunn  (rising).  I  won't  listen  to  such  talk.  Did  vou  buy 


104  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

the  land  from  Him,  perhaps  ?  And  what  did  you  have  to 
pay  with  that  was  not  His  already? 

Sveinungi.  You  need  n't  mock  me.  You  can  walk  all  over 
the  yard  and  cut  your  handful  of  grass  with  your  scissors 
wherever  you  like;  it  grows  thick  as  wool  everywhere,  and 
it 's  all  my  work. 

Jorunn.  Was  it  you  who  ruled  the  hraun  for  thousands 
of  years  so  that  it  did  not  swallow  up  the  bit  of  ground  you 
are  standing  on,  which  you  call  yours?  [Goes  into  the  tent. 

Sveinungi.  Which  I  call  mine!  (Stamping  his  foot.}  It  is 
mine!  I've  bought  the  land  from  Him  up  there  with  my 
work. 
(The  Servants  rise.} 

Jon.  I  believe  the  worst  is  over  and  that  we  shall  be  let 
off  with  the  fright. 

Indridl.  I  hope  so. 

Bjorg.  You  can  never  tell.  Remember  what  happened  the 
time  when  more  than  three-score  farm-houses  fell  in  one 
night. 

Thora.  It  must  have  been  dreadful. 

Sveinungi.  Now  you  must  all  go  into  the  tent. 

[The  Servants  go  in. 

Jakobina.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  something  dreadful  were 
to  happen  to  the  farm.  [Goes  into  the  tent. 

(Sveinungi  stands  quite  still  a  little  while,  then  walks  a  few 
steps,  pauses,  takes  a  few  more  steps,  and  again  stops.} 

Enter  Ljot  from  the  tent. 

Ljot.  Are  you  not  coming,  father?  Mother  told  me  to  ask 
you  to  come  in. 

Sveinungi.  Why  does  n't  she  lie  down  ?  She  need  not  wait 
for  me. 


ACT  SECOND  105 

Ljot.  We  are  so  frightened,  father — all  of  us. 
Enter  Jorunn  from  the  tent. 

Jorunn.  It 's  getting  cold. 

Ljot.  Yes,  it  is  cold. 

yorunn.  The  sun  has  set. 

Sveinungi. Why  are  you  coming  out  again,  Jorunn?  Can't 
you  sleep  ? 

yorunn.  No,  I  can't  sleep. 

Sveinungi.  Do  you  remember  the  night  you  thought  I  was 
lost  in  the  snowstorm  ?  A  light  was  burning  in  the  upper 
window.  To  see  it  was  better  than  meeting  a  human  being, 
and  when  the  dogs  began  to  bark  behind  the  door,  it  was 
just  as  if  the  house  itself  were  speaking — calling  out  its 
joy.  It  sounded  better  to  me  than  a  human  voice,  and  when 
I  stepped  into  the  hall,  the  darkness  seemed  to  put  its  arms 
around  me.  Never  have  I  had  so  sweet  a  welcome,  not 
even  when  my  daughter  was  a  little  child. 

yorunn.  Ought  we  not  to  go  in,  Sveinungi?  It's  getting 
late.  You  too  must  go  in  now,  Ljot. 

Ljot.  I  am  only  waiting  for  father. 

yorunn.  Do  you  hear  that, Sveinungi?  Ljot  is  waiting  for 
you,  and  the  servants  can't  sleep  either  before  you  go  in. 

Sveinungi.  I  am  not  going  to  stay  in  the  tent  to-night. 
I  am  going  home. 

yorunn.  You  don't  mean  that ! 

Ljot.  But,  father  dear! 

Sveinungi.  I  won't  let  any  foolish  fear  drive  me  out  of 
my  house,  and  it  is  nothing  but  a  foolish  fear.  The  earth- 
quake will  not  come  so  suddenly  but  that  I  shall  have  time 
to  get  out.  It 's  impossible.  Besides,  the  badstofa  will  hold. 
It's  well  built,  though  it's  old. 


io6  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Jorunn.  Do  you  think  the  badstofa  will  hold  if  there 
should  come  a  big  earthquake?  You  cannot  mean  that! 

Svelnungi.  It  is  not  at  all  sure  there  will  be  another 
shock.  It's  only  a  fancy  that  the  earthquake  must  needs 
keep  on  once  it  has  begun.  I  believe  it  is  over;  I  feel  it. 
(During  the  last  speeches  the  Servants  have  been  coming  out 
of  the  tent.}  What  are  you  running  out  for?  Go  in,  all  of 
you. 

Jakobina.  I  must  tell  master  about  the  dream  I  had.  It 
was  last  night.  I  thought  I  was  standing  out  in  the  yard 
and  saw  a  giant  coming  across  the  hraun.  He  walked  with 
long,  unsteady  strides  (she  takes  a  few  steps  forward;  her 
voice  sounds  distant  and  threatening),  and  seemed  to  grope 
as  if  he  were  blind.  Then  I  saw  him  standing  right  by  the 
house — with  arms  stretched  out;  he  bent  down  over  the 
farm  and  stood  there  like  a  stone  cross.  (Makes  the  sign 
of  the  cross  with  her  arms} 

Sveinungi.  Did  I  ask  you  to  tell  me  about  your  dream  ? 

Jorunn.  I  beg  of  you,  Sveinungi,  that  you  do  not  stay 
at  the  house  to-night.  It  would  be  tempting  God. 

Sveinungi.  It 's  rather  He  who  is  tempting  me.  If  I  ran 
away,  it  would  serve  me  right  to  have  the  house  fall  down. 
(Pointing  to  the  house.}  There  it  has  stood  waiting  for  me 
every  evening  as  far  back  as  I  can  remember.  I  have  seen 
the  windows  flaming  in  the  sun.  I  have  seen  them  wet 
with  rain.  I  have  seen  them  white  with  frost.  I've  been 
with  it  ever  since  I  was  a  child.  I  have  climbed  on  the 
roof  as  I  climbed  on  my  father's  shoulders.  When  I  stood 
on  the  ridge,  it  seemed  it  had  lifted  me  up  to  let  me 
see  better.  No,  Jorunn,  even  if  I  knew  the  earthquake  to 
be  coming,  I  should  go  home.  Nor  is  it  any  wonder  that 
I  long  to  get  into  my  own  bed.  I  am  old  now,  and  I  have 


ACT  SECOND  107 

waked  up  there  almost  every  morning  of  my  life.  I  have 
gone  to  bed  so  tired  and  worn  that  I  could  barely  stand 
on  my  feet  and  have  waked  up  young  and  strong.  I  have 
been  ill  and  have  lain  there  watching  the  sunbeams  flitting 
across  the  floor.  \_Sveinungi  walks  homeward. 

Jorunn.  Are  you  going  home?  (Following  him  hurriedly.} 
Whatever  happens,  your  fate  shall  be  mine. 

Sveinungi  (stops  and  looks  back}.  Do  you  hear  that?  She 
is  not  afraid,  my  wife. 

[Sveinungi  and  Jorunn  walk  homeward. 

Ljot.  How  can  you  do  it,  father?  (IValks  a  few  steps  away 
from  the  others  and  remains  standing  there.} 

Jakobina.  God  be  with  you,  Jorunn, and  with  you, Svein- 
ungi. You  have  been  good  to  me,  these  nineteen  years. 

\Goes  into  the  tent. 
(Silence.} 

Helgi.  There,  they  went  in. 

Bj0rg.  Yes,  they  are  in  there  now. 

Jon.  I  think  we  had  better  go  and  lie  down,  since  there 
is  nothing  we  can  do. 

Indridi.  No,  we  can  do  nothing. 

Thora.  It  will  be  a  long  night. 

Rannveig.  Poor  Ljot ! 

[  The  Servants  walk  slowly  into  the  tent. 
(  Einar  and  Ljot  remain.  Silence.} 

Einar  (goes  to  Ljot}.  I  wish  I  could  make  you  happy  as 
easily  now  as  when  you  were  a  little  girl. 

Ljot  (struggling  ivith  her  tears}.  Father  does  not  care  for 
me  at  all.  He  does  not  think  of  me  for  a  moment. 

Einar.  Your  father  cares  for  you,  no  doubt  of  that,  but 
he  is  beside  himself  with  the  earthquake. 

Ljot.  You  don't   know  what   I   am   talking  about.  (In 


io8  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

sudden  fear.}  If  only  something  dreadful  does  not  hap- 
pen! 

Einar.  We  must  trust  to  the  Lord  to  keep  us  all.  Won't 
you  too  try  to  lie  down? 

Ljot.  I  can't  sleep. 

Einar.  Perhaps  you  would  rather  stay  here  a  little  while. 
Let  me  bring  a  shawl  for  you;  it  is  getting  cold. 

[Goes  into  the  tent. 
(Ljot  stands  motionless  looking  out  over  the  "hraun"} 

Einar  (coming  from  the  tent}.  They  are  asleep  in  there 
already.  Won't  you  put  the  shawl  around  your  shoulders  ? 

Ljot.  I  am  not  cold. 

Einar.  Then  I  '11  spread  it  over  one  of  the  rocks  for  you 
to  sit  on.  They  are  wet  with  dew.  (Spreads  it  over  the  stone.} 
There!  What  did  you  have  in  mind  when  you  stood  there 
looking  out  over  the  hraun? 

Ljot.  I  was  thinking  of  an  old  tale  Jakobina  once  told 
me.  It  was  about  a  young  girl.  She  went  out  on  the  hraun 
with  bare  feet  to  meet  her  sweetheart,  and  wherever  she 
stepped  the  moss  grew  under  her  foot. 

Einar.  That 's  a  pretty  story.  I  can  tell  you  one  too,  if 
you  care  to  hear  it.  It  might  help  to  quiet  you  a  little. 

Ljot  (takes  his  hand}.  You  are  so  good. 

Einar  (sits  down;  relates}.  In  olden  times,  they  say,  there 
was  an  underground  stream  that  ran  straight  through  the 
country  from  south  to  north  and  was  meant  as  a  sign  of 
truce  between  land  and  sea.  It  happened  that  a  cross-eyed, 
ill-natured  shark  was  trying  to  tempt  a  young  whale  to  swim 
that  stream  from  end  to  end.  The  whale's  name  was  Spray- 
tail.  He  was  the  handsomest  of  all  the  young  whales  and 
could  shoot  three  jets  of  water  at  once.  The  shark  boasted 
that  he  had  swum  through  the  stream  himself,  but  of  course 


ACT  SECOND  109 

it  was  only  real  fishes  that  could  do  it.  Spray-tail  felt  stung 
on  behalf  of  his  kin, and  as  the  shark  had  told  him  that  there 
were  openings  here  and  there  in  the  roof  of  this  under- 
ground way,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  try  his  luck,  trusting 
that  he  could  hold  his  breath  from  one  opening  to  another. 
But  it  fell  out  otherwise.  Spray-tail  never  came  back.  The 
last  ever  heard  of  him  was  that  some  swans,  in  their  flight 
over  the  hills,  had  seen  a  jet  of  blood  spurting  out  of  the 
ground. 

The  whales  were  in  a  rage  and,  as  they  thought  in  their 
grief  that  the  land  had  broken  truce,  they  goaded  the  sea 
to  wreak  vengeance  upon  it.  Are  you  listening? 
(Ljot  nods  her  head.} 

One  night  a  dreadful  storm  broke.  The  sea  came  rush- 
ing in  over  the  land,  fell  upon  the  rocks  like  a  monster, 
and  tore  them  to  pieces.  The  next  morning  thousands  of 
sea  fowls'  nests  were  wrecked,  and  where  green  fields  had 
been  there  were  black  sands.  Now  there  was  sore  need  of 
wise  counsel.  A  shrewd  old  raven  said  that  the  fire  should 
be  roused.  All  the  birds  agreed  that  the  raven  had  spoken 
well,  but  none  dared  do  the  deed.  The  raven  was  made 
judge,  and  decided  that  the  spider  should  undertake  the 
ticklish  task,  and  that  the  eagle  should  carry  her  to  the 
crater. 

They  gave  the  spider  ten  fat  blue-flies  to  take  with  her. 
She  spun  herself  well  and  firmly  under  some  strong  feathers, 
and  ofF  they  went.  They  flew  over  deep  dales,  over  dreary 
wastes,  and  over  glaciers.  In  the  evening  they  came  to  the 
fire-mountain,  and  there  they  rested  overnight,  but  they  did 
not  sleep  much,  for  the  fire  was  snoring  like  a  giant  down 
below  in  the  earth.  Early  the  next  morning  the  eagle  flew 
to  the  top  of  the  mountain.  The  spider  made  fast  her  thread 


no  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

and  spun  herself  slowly  down  into  the  crater.  It  was  dark 
down  there,  and  the  heat  and  sulphur  made  her  eyes  smart, 
'but  she  could  see  enough  to  make  out  that  the  fire  lay  sleep- 
ing under  a  very  thin  black  coverlet.  The  spider  knew 
nothing  but  the  finger-language,  and  she  moved  her  legs 
incessantly,  telling  fully  and  truly  all  about  the  havoc  that 
was  wrought,  and  urging  the  fire  to  come  to  the  rescue 
lest  the  whole  land  be  swallowed  up  by  the  sea.  Yet  the 
fire  did  not  stir.  Then  the  spider  bent  her  legs  up  under 
her  and  let  herself  fall  all  the  way  down  to  the  fire.  She 
stretched  out  one  leg  and  poked  the  black  coverlet.  From 
that  moment  she  could  n't  remember  anything  till  she  was 
lying  at  the  rim  of  the  crater  again.  She  peeped  down  and 
saw  that  the  fire  had  thrown  ofF  the  coverlet  and  was  red 
and  blazing.  Then  the  spider  understood  that  her  task  was 
done.  Everybody  knows  how  the  fire  had  its  reckoning 
with  the  sea  and  filled  up  whole  fjords  with  lava  and  ashes. 
(S0lvi  is  seen  approaching  from  the^hraun."} 

Ljot  (rising).  You  must  tell  me  that  story  over  again 
some  time.  I  could  not  listen  rightly. 

Einar  (rising).  Who  is  that  coming  so  late?  (Looking^ 
Now  I  know  him;  it's  S01vi. 

Ljot.  I  saw  him  a  while  ago  walking  over  the  hraun. 

Einar.  He  may  bring  us  news. 

Enter  S0lvi  carrying  a  gun  and  with  a  game-bag  on  his  back. 

S0lvi.  Good  evening. 

Einar.  Good  evening. 

S0lvi.  How  good  it  seems  to  meet  people!  You  have 
;noved  out,  of  course? 

Einar.  You  are  walking  late. 

S0lvi.  You  will   have   to   take    the    earthquake  as  my 


ACT  SECOND  in 

excuse.  This  has  been  a  bad  day.  What  has  happened  here 
at  your  place? 

Einar.  One  of  the  outbuildings  came  down  and  a  part 
of  the  yard-fence. 

S0hi.  At  Hoi  one  wall  of  the  house  fell.  The  folks 
barely  got  out.  (Lays  down  his  gun.} 

Einar.  Was  anybody  hurt? 

S0lvi.  No.  I  could  not  stay  there  any  longer.  I  saw  your 
house  standing,  and  that  was  a  relief.  (Looking  at  Ljot.} 
Yet  I  had  to  come. 

Einar.  What  do  you  think?  Do  you  believe  the  earth- 
quake is  over? 
(S0lvi  fails  to  answer;  looks  at  Ljot.} 

Ljot.  My  father  and  mother  are  sleeping  in  the  house. 

S0lvi.  Why  in  the  world  are  they  doing  that ! 

Ljot.  We  were  ready  to  go  to  bed,  but  father  would  not 
come  into  the  tent.  Mother  begged  him  to  stay,  but  it  was 
no  use,  and  when  father  went  back  to  the  house,  mother 
went  with  him. 

S0lvi.  But  the  buildings  may  fall  at  any  moment  if  there 
should  be  another  shock. 

Einar.  Sveinungi  knows  that  as  well  as  we  do,  but  he 
would  not  let  the  house  stand  forsaken. 

S0lvi.  We  must  hope  that  no  harm  will  come  to  them. 
So  that  is  why  you  are  still  up.  Have  the  others  been  in 
bed  long? 

Ljot.  No,  they  went  in  a  little  while  ago. 

Einar.  May  I  look  at  your  gun? 

S0lvi.  As  much  as  you  like. 

Einar.  Is  it  loaded  ? 

S0lvi.  It  is.  (To  Ljot.}  You  are  not  angry  with  me  for 
coming  so  late?  It  seemed  an  eternity  till  Sunday. 


ii2  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Ljot.  I  knew  you  would  come. 

S0lvi.  You  knew  it!  Won't  you  sit  down?  I  have  some- 
thing to  show  you.  (Ljot  sits  down.  S0lvi  opens  the  game-bag; 
takes  from  it  a  large  fern }  I  found  this  out  on  the  hraun.  Is 
it  not  beautiful  ?  (Sits  down.)  Look,  the  stem  is  no  thicker 
than  a  hair,  while  the  leaf  can  easily  hide  your  whole  face. 
(Holds  it  up  before  her  face.}  It  trembles  when  your  breath 
touches  it. 

Ljot.  You  have  pulled  it  up  by  the  roots.  May  I  have 
the  moss  that  came  with  it  ?  (S0!vi  loosens  the  moss  from  the 
roots.  Ljot  lays  it  in  her  hand;  smiles.}  When  it  withers,  I  '11 
keep  it  in  my  shoes. 

S0lvi.  Will  you  keep  it  in  your  shoes  ?  See  these  two 
small  ferns  on  one  root.  They  look  like  two  slim  hands. 
(Looks  at  Ljot.} 

Einar  (puts  the  gun  aside].  It 's  a  fine  one.  It  must  have 
cost  a  good  deal.  Perhaps  you  bought  it  yourself  abroad? 

S0lvi.  I  did.  (Lays  down  the  fern.  To  Ljot.}  If  you  have 
time,  you  can  plant  it  to-morrow.  It  won't  hurt  it  to  lie 
overnight  in  the  wet  grass. 

Einar  (goes  to  S0lvi}.  How  long  were  you  abroad? 

S0/vi.  Seven  years. 

Einar.  That 's  a  long  time.  (Sits  down.} 

Ljot.  My  father  was  angry  with  me  for  keeping  your 
bird's  skin. 

S0lvi.  Was  he?  And  I  was  thinking  of  asking  you  to  visit 
me  at  Hoi  some  time  before  I  leave. 

Ljot.  I  hardly  think  I  dare  to. 

S0lvi.  You  could  take  Einarwithyou.lt  is  not  much  more 
than  an  hour's  ride,  and  I  have  a  number  of  things  I  should 
like  to  show  you, — petrified  tree-trunks  that  I  have  dug 
out  of  the  earth,  in  which  you  can  see  plainly  every  bud 


ACT  SECOND  113 

and  shoot,  and  stone  slabs  with  impressions  of  flowers  and 
leaves  that  lived  thousands  of  years  ago.  Should  you  like 
to  see  them  ? 

Ljot.  I  should  like  it  ever  so  much. 

S0/vi.  I  have  some  rocks,  too,  baked  by  fire  and  furrowed 
by  ice.  If  you  knew  all  the  tales  they  tell  me!  They  lay 
bare  to  me  things  that  are  hidden  from  every  one  else. 
(A  whirring  of  wings  is  heard  far  away?) 

Einar  (stands  up,  pointing  with  his  finger}.  Look,  there  is 
a  flock  of  ducks  flying  over  the  hraun,  (Stands  gazing.) 

S0lvi  (in  a  low  voice).  It  made  me  so  happy  to  see  you. 
This  evening,  when  the  sun  was  setting,  I  reached  out 
toward  it.  I  did  the  same  when  I  saw  you. 

Einar.  They  're  flying  unusually  low.  There  they  alight 
—  I'll  get  my  gun. 

S0lvi  (rising).  I'll  lend  you  mine.  (Hands  him  the  gun.) 
It  will  carry  a  distance  of  a  hundred  and  thirty  feet. 

Einar.  What  size  shot  have  you? 

S0/vi.  Duck-shot. 

Einar.  Ljot,  you  don't  mind,  do  you  ?  I  shall  not  be  gone 
long.  If  they  rise,  I  'm  not  going  after  them.  [Exit. 

(Ljot  rises.) 

S0lvi  (goes  to  her).  My  star  must  be  in  the  heavens  to- 
night. 

Ljot.  You  must  not  think  that  I  was  sitting  up  so  late 
because  I  was  waiting  for  you — I  saw  you  walking  over 
the  hraun — but  we  shan't  talk  about  that. 

S0lvi.  Shall  I  tell  you  why  I  came  home  from  abroad? 
It  was  for  your  sake. 

Ljot  (sits  down).  That  is  not  true. 

S0lvi  (sits  down).  One  night,  the  last  winter  I  was  away, 
I  must  have  been  dreaming,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was 


n4  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

awake.  I  had  come  back  home  and  was  walking  on  the 
hraun.  The  hraun  was  covered  with  ashes.  As  I  walked, 
I  suddenly  fell  into  a  deep  cleft  and  kept  on  falling  and 
falling.  At  last  I  found  myself  lying  on  the  bottom,  unable 
to  stir.  Death  came  and  sucked  the  life  out  of  my  eyes 
and  held  it  in  her  hand  like  a  tiny  flame.  Suddenly  a  woman 
stood  beside  me  dressed  in  moss.  She  pleaded  for  me  so 
long  that  death  gave  her  my  life.  She  looked  like  you.  It  was 
you.  Don't  you  know  that  you  hold  my  life  in  your  hands? 
(They  rise?) 

Ljot.  I  think  I  shall  go  in.  It  is  hard  to  tell  when  Einar 
will  be  back.  When  he  is  out  hunting  he  forgets  every- 
thing. 

S0Ivi.  I  love  you,  Ljot!  You  have  not  been  out  of  my 
thoughts  since  the  first  time  I  saw  you.  Everything  re- 
minds me  of  you  — the  sun,  the  sky  — 

Ljot.  I  too  have  been  happy  in  seeing  you  and  talking 
with  you.  {Stands  still  as  death?)  This  morning,  right  after 
you  had  gone,  my  father  told  me  that  on  his  way  home 
from  town  he  had  seen  his  old  friend, — and  my  father 
wanted  me  to  promise  myself  to  the  son  of  his  old  friend, 
but  I  would  not,  because  I  was  thinking  of  you.  Then  my 
mother  came  and  talked  to  me — and  I  gave  in.  I  could 
not  do  anything  else. 

S0lvi.  Why  did  I  not  speak  before!  You  won't  feel  hurt 
at  what  I  say,  Ljot?  You  must  not  let  your  parents  decide 
your  life.  That  is  for  you  to  do. 

Ljot.  You  don't  know  my  father.  If  he  thought  I  was 
standing  here  talking  to  you,  I  can't  tell  what  he  would  do. 

S0hi.  I  am  convinced  your  parents  have  but  one  wish, 
and  that  is  for  your  happiness. 

Ljot.  I  don't  know.  My  mother  does  not  say  much  about 


ACT  SECOND  115 

happiness;  she  does  her  duty — and  I  know  mine.  (Turns 
toward  the  tent.} 

S0lvi.  Are  you  going? 

Ljot.  It  is  better  that  we  two  should  not  meet  again  —  it 
would  only  cause  us  suffering.  (Moves  away.} 

S0lvi  (following  her}.  You  don't  realize  what  you  are 
about  to  do!  You  will  be  committing  a  terrible  crime  — 
against  all  the  wonderful  days  that  life  meant  us  two  to  have 
together.  For  you  do  care  for  me,  Ljot,  don't  you  ?  (Ljot 
is  silent.}  I  thought  you  cared  for  me.  When  you  spoke  to 
me  this  morning  you  blushed,  and  I  thought  it  was  your 
heart  that  gave  me  its  promise.  The  joy  of  it  overwhelmed 
me. 

Ljot.  It  matters  little  whom  I  care  for.  I  have  given 
my  word. 

S0lvi.  You  think  it  is  your  duty  to  keep  your  word,  but 
there  is  another  duty  that  is  far  greater,  and  that  is  to  open 
your  arms  to  happiness  when  it  comes.  There  is  no  greater 
duty.  It  is  the  meaning  of  our  existence.  You  must  feel  that, 
you  who  have  grown  like  a  flower  out  of  the  earth ! 

Ljot.  It  is  not  only  that  I  have  given  my  word.  If  I  had 
neither  father  nor  mother,  I  should  break  my  promise,  but 
I  know  that  it  would  grieve  my  parents.  This  morning 
father  said  to  me  that  it  was  the  happiest  day  of  his  life 
since  he  got  my  mother,  and  I  know  it  was  true. 

S0lvi.  You  must  tell  your  parents  that  you  cannot  keep 
your  word.  You  must  do  it  for  my  sake.  (Kneeling.}  You 
are  the  only  one  I  care  for  in  all  the  world. 

Ljot.  I  can't  deal  such  a  blow  to  my  father.  No  other 
living  being  has  been  so  good  to  me  as  my  father. 

S0lvi  (rising}.  You  do  not  care  for  me  at  all. 

Ljot.  You  think  it  is  easy  for  me !  (JVith  tears  in  her  eyes} 


n6  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

I  own  a  spring — I  cleanse  it  every  Saturday.  I  have  told 
it  your  name.  (Goes  to  the  tent.} 

S0lvt.  You  are  going!  (Turns  away  from  Ljot,  sits  down 
on  one  of  the  rocks,  covers  his  face. \ 

Ljot  (stands  silent  for  a  long  time,  then  goes  over  to  him  and 
takes  his  hands  from  his  face}.  I  love  you. 
(S0/vi  takes  her  face  between  his  hands  and  kisses  her.} 

Enter  'Jakobina. 

Jakobina  (coming  slowly  from  the  tent).  We  are  not  all 
asleep  in  there. 
(S0lvi  and  Ljot  rise.) 

S0lvi  (holding  Ljot  by  the  hand).  Let  us  go  out  on  the 
hraun  and  look  for  Einar. 

Ljot  (runs  to  'Jakobina,  puts  her  arms  around  'Jakobind 's 
neck  and  holds  her  close).  I  know  that  you  care  for  me.  (Goes 
to  S0lvi  and  takes  his  hand.)  Come ! 

[They  go  toward  the  '•'•hraun." 

(^Jakobina  stands  still,  following  them  with  her  eyes,  then  shakes 
her  head  and  turns  toward  the  tent.) 


ACT  III 

The  farm-house  is  in  ruins.  Only  the  farther  side  of  the  "bad- 
stofa  "  is  standing.  It  looks  like  a  dark  cavern.  The  servants  have 
gathered  near  the  wreckage;  they  are  bare-headed,  the  men  in 
their  shirt-sleeves.  Sveinungi  is  standing  near  the  dark  opening. 
It  is  night. 

Sveinungi  (to  jro«).You  dare  not  go  in. 

Jon  (peering  into  the  gloom}.  I  don't  know.  There's  only 
one  post  that  holds  the  roof,  and  it  may  snap  at  any  mo- 
ment. 

Sveinungi.  It  won't.  It  is  drift-timber,  which  never 
rots. 

'Jon.  And  besides,  it  stands  aslant;  the  slightest  push 
would  make  it  go  with  a  crash,  and  there  would  be  no 
getting  out  alive  if  the  heavy  roof  came  down. 

Sveinungi.  You  are  afraid.  Is  there  anybody  else  who 
dares  ? 

Jorunn.  You  cannot  ask  any  man  to  go  in  there. 

Sveinungi  (to  Jon).  It  would  take  you  but  a  moment  to 
bring  out  those  few  things.  There's  my  tall  chest — you 
know  where  it  stands  —  and  my  old  clock;  you  can  un- 
screw it  from  the  wall  with  your  knife. 

Jon.  I  am  not  going  in  there. 

Sveinungi.  Get  drunk  and  brag  —  that  you  know  how  to 
do,  all  of  you.  (Starts  into  the  ruins.} 

Jon.  Is  master  going  in  there? 

Sveinungi.  Do  you  think  I  will  let  my  things  be  ruined, 
because  you  are  a  coward? 

Jon.  Then  I  will  go  with  you.  It 's  easier  for  two. 

[Sveinungi  and  Jon  disappear  from  view. 


n8  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Jorunn.  No  matter  what  happens  to  that  man,  he  will 
never  learn  to  bend.  (Goes  to  the  ruins;  looks  in.}  Can  you 
see  anything  in  there?  Is  it  not  too  dark? 
(Silence?) 

Sveinungi  and  Jon  appear,  carrying  the  tall  chest. 
Sveinungi.  Indridi  and  you,  Helgi,  come  here  and  take  it 
from  us.  Set  it  over  there. 

[Sveinungi  and  Jon  disappear  again. 

Indridi  (to  Jorunn,  as  the  men  carry  the  chest  out  into  the 
open).  Can  we  leave  it  here  ? 

Jorunn.  Yes.  (She  peers  into  the  ruins  again.) 

Enter  Jakobinafrom  the  direction  of  the  tent. 

Jakobina  (goes  to  Jorunn, lays  her  hand  on  Jorunn' 's  shoulder}. 
I  must  feel  that  you  are  indeed  safe  and  sound.  (Stroking 
her  arm.}  When  you  went  home,  I  was  afraid  that  you 
would  never  come  out  of  that  house  again.  I  thought  your 
husband  must  be  struck  with  blindness. 

Jorunn.  You  don't  know  where  Einar  and  Ljot  have 
gone? 

Jakobina.  I  saw  Ljot  going  out  on  the  hraun. 

Sveinungi  and  Jon  appear,  carrying  the  clock. 
Sveinungi.  You  will  have  to  be  a  little  careful,  the  glass 
is  broken.  (Steps  out  into  the  open.  To  Jon.\  I  dare  say  you 
have  had  enough  of  this. 

Jon.  I  can't  say  it  was  any  too  cheerful  in  there. 
Sveinungi  (to  the  men).  You  can  carry  the   clock  into 
the  tent;  the  dampness  here  might  be  bad  for  it.  And  you, 
Bj0rg,  go  and  get  a  blanket  to  spread  over  the  chest. 

[  Exeunt  Servants,  Bj0rn  running,  Indridi  and  Helgi 
carrying  the  clock,  Jakobina  following  them. 


ACT  THIRD  119 

Jorunn.  You  are  lucky,  Sveinungi,  that  you  have  not 
come  to  grief  with  your  foolhardiness. 

Sveinungi.  It  is  nothing  but  my  duty  to  care  as  best  I  can 
for  what  is  mine.  I  have  risked  my  life  before  in  a  good  deal 
worse  dangers  than  this.  But  I  must  send  some  one  to  look 
after  the  boy.  He  may  have  lost  all  the  sheep.  Will  you  go, 
Jon? 

Jon.  I  will. 

Sveinungi.  You  had  better  drive  the  sheep  home. 

Jorunn.  And  if  you  should  see  Ljot  and  Einar,  tell  them 
to  hurry. 

Jon.  I  will.  [Exit. 

Sveinungi.  Where  are  they? 

Jorunn.  They  are  out  on  the  hraun. 

Enter  Bjorg,  carrying  a  blanket. 

Bj0rg.  Here  is  the  blanket. 

Sveinungi.  Why  did  they  go  out  there ?  (Takes  the  blanket, 
goes  to  the  chest,  and  runs  his  hand  over  it.}  Here  it 's  been 
bruised.  (Throws  the  blanket  over  it.)  I  did  not  think  you 
would  have  all  this  to  go  through.  (Takes  a  long  breath?)  It 
is  pretty  hard  when  one  has  grown  as  old  as  I  am  to  see 
one's  work  destroyed. 

Jorunn.  That  is  true. 

Sveinungi.  My  only  comfort  is  that  I  shall  have  a  cap- 
able man  to  help  me  put  up  the  buildings  again.  (Gazing 
over  the  "hraun"}  What  can  it  be  that  is  keeping  Ljot  out 
there?  Has  she  been  gone  long? 

Rannvfig.  I  don't  know. 

Sveinungi.  I  hope  she  has  not  gone  down  into  one  of  the 
fissures.  One  can't  tell  what  may  happen.  The  walls  might 
cave  in,  or  they  might  close  overhead. 


120  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Enter  Indridi  from  the  direction  of  the  tent. 

Indridi.  Einar  and  Ljot  are  coming  now.  We  could  see 
them  from  the  tent. 

Sveinungi.  Are  they  coming?  (Goes  towardthe  background.} 
Yes,  Ljot  has  seen  us ;  she  is  running. 

Jorunn.  She  must  have  thought  we  were  buried  under 
the  ruins. 

Sveinungl  (looking}.  There  is  a  third  person  with  them. 
Who  can  it  be? 

Rannveig.  So  there  is. 

Indridi.  I  believe  it 's  S01vi. 

Sveinungi.  What  business  has  he  out  there  at  night? 

Indridi.  It 's  hard  to  tell ! 

Sveinungi.  I  do  hope  that  Ljot  has  not  been  talking  to 
that  fellow. 

Enter  Helgi  from  the  direction  of  the  tent. 

(Silence.} 

Enter  Ljot,  running. 

Ljot  (puts  her  arms  around  her  mother}.  I  was  so  fright- 
ened ! 

Jorunn.  Were  you  frightened?  You  are  quite  out  of 
breath  with  running. 

Sveinungi  (smiling}.  And  have  you  no  greeting  for  your 
father? 

Ljot.  Dear,  dear  father!  (Embraces  him.} 

Sveinungi.  You  were  glad  when  you  saw  us  ? 

Ljot.  I  was  so  glad  that  I  don't  know  yet  what  I  am 
saying.  I  was  afraid  you  had  been  caught  under  the  ruins. 
I  thought  that  was  to  be  my  punishment. 

Sveinungi  (stroking  her  hair).  Have  you  done  anything 
you  should  be  punished  for? 


ACT  THIRD  121 

Ljot  (taking  his  hand}.  Be  fond  of  me,  father!  Be  very, 
very  fond  of  me ! 

Enter  Einar  and  S0lvi. 

Einar.  Thank  God,  you  are  safe!  Then  you  had  time 
to  get  out  ? 

Jorunn.  No,  we  were  in  there. 

Ljot.  Were  you  in  there?  (Goes  to  the  ruins.}  How  weird 
it  looks! 

Sveinungi  (goes  to  the  ruins}.  It  is  only  the  one  post  that 
holds  it  all.  If  that  had  snapped,  you  would  never  have  laid 
eyes  on  us  again. 

Einar  (looks  into  the  ruins}.  It 's  a  miracle  it  did  n't  break. 

Jorunn.  Yes,  if  it  had  not  been  God's  will,  we  should 
not  be  here  now. 

Einar  (turns  from  the  ruins}.  It  was  not  any  too  cheer- 
ful out  on  the  hraun  either.  The  place  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  become  alive. 

Sveinungi.  What  in  the  world  made  you  go  out  there? 

Einar.  There  was  a  flock  of  ducks  flying  over  the  hraun, 
and  I  wanted  to  try  a  shot  at  them. 

Sveinungi  (to  Ljot}.  And  why  did  you  go  with  him  ? 

Ljot.  I  was  not  with  him.  S01vi  and  I  stayed  behind. 

Sveinungi.  Do  you  sit  alone  with  a  stranger  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  night?  (To  S0lvi.}  And  you,  why  are  you  here 
at  this  time?  I  will  not  have  you  go  hunting  on  my  land 
without  asking  my  leave. 

S0lvi.  I  was  not  hunting  on  your  land. 

Sveinungi.  But  you  are  picking  up  stones,  and  I  forbid 
you  to  take  as  much  as  a  single  pebble  from  my  land.  Now 
you  know  that. 

Ljot.  Why  do  you  say  that,  father? 


122  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Sveinungi.  You  can  go  into  the  tent,  Ljot.  You  have 
nothing  to  do  here. 

Ljot.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you. 

Sveinungi,  What  is  it?  (Ljot  is  silent.  To  the  Servants.} 
You  can  go.  To-morrow  I  shall  have  a  talk  with  you, 
Einar,  which  you  will  remember. 

Einar.  It  was  not  my  fault. 

Sveinungi  (to  the  Servants).  Go !  What  are  you  waiting 
for?  [Exeunt  Servants. 

Sveinungi  (to  Ljot}.  Now,  what  is  it  you  have  to  say 
to  me? 

S0lvi.  I  have  come  here  to  ask  for  the  hand  of  your 
daughter. 

Sveinungi.  Has  not  my  daughter  told  you  that  she  is  be- 
trothed ? 

Ljot.  I  have  told  him  everything.  I  never  cared  for 
Halfdan  —  you  know  that,  father,  and  I  will  not  be  his 
wife. 

Jorunn.  Ljot,  it  has  never  happened  .yet  that  one  of  my 
kin  has  broken  faith.  If  you  do  it,  you  will  be  the  first. 

Sveinungi.  And  you  have  not  reckoned  with  your  father. 
It  does  not  lie  altogether  with  yourself  to  break  your  word. 
Do  you  think  you  can  make  a  fool  of  me?  (To  S0Ivi.)  It 
does  not  make  you  my  son-in-law  that  you  have  trifled 
with  my  daughter. 

S0lvi.  It  was  no  mere  chance  that  we  two  found  each 
other.  Only  for  Ljot's  sake  have  I  stayed  so  long  in  these 
parts.  I  came  here  to-night  to  find  out  how  you  had  fared; 
I  could  not  help  it. 

Sveinungi.  You  feel  proud  that  you  have  coaxed  a  young 
girl  to  break  her  word.  You  think  yourself  very  brave,  and 
you  have  taken  advantage  of  her  when  she  was  beside  her- 


ACT  THIRD  123 

self  with  fear.  You  have  come  like  a  thief  in  the  dead  of 
night. 

S0lvi.  I  love  your  daughter.  There  is  nothing  wrong  in 
that,  and  I  am  proud  and  happy  that  she  has  given  me  her 
heart. 

Sveinungi  (to  Ljot}.  So  that  is  what  you  have  done.  I  dare 
say  you  have  met  him  before  and  more  than  once  behind 
my  back. 

Ljot.  Not  once. 

Sveinungi.  And  straightway  you  are  ready  to  break  your 
word.  You  knew  that  Halfdan's  father  is  the  best  friend 
I  have. 

Ljot.  You  must  forgive  me,  father! 

Sveinungi.  And  you  knew  I  had  sent  him  word  that 
everything  was  settled. 

Ljot  (takes  his  hand}.  Do  you  remember,  father,  when  I 
was  so  little  that  I  had  to  put  my  arms  around  your  knee? 
Then  you  never  said  no  when  I  asked  you  for  anything. 
I  am  still  your  little  girl. 

Sveinungi.  Let  me  go ! 

Ljot.  You  do  care  for  me,  father.  I  know  of  no  one  who 
has  been  so  good  to  me  as  you.  You  have  given  me  every- 
thing that  I  call  my  own.  You  must  give  me  my  happiness ! 

Sveinungi.  Let  go  my  hand ! 

Jorunn.  I  understand  that  S01vi  is  very  dear  to  you,  my 
child,  but  this  comes  upon  us  unawares,  and  it  has  been 
a  terrible  night  for  us  all.  (To  S0/vi.}  Could  you  not  have 
waited  before  speaking  to  Sveinungi? 

Selvi.  I  cannot  help  it  that  it  has  come  in  this  wav.  I 
would  have  waited  if  I  could. 

'Jorunn.  I  might  perhaps  have  seen  my  way  to  put  in  a 
good  word  for  you  two.  (  To  Sveinungi,}  You  won't  be  hard 


124  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

on  your  daughter!  If  we  had  been  lying  under  the  ruins 
now,  she  would  have  had  no  need  to  ask  us.  To-night  we 
must  not  be  merciless. 

Sveinungi.  Who  is  this  man  ?  I  don't  know  him,  nor  do 
I  know  his  people. 

S0lvi.  My  father  was  a  farmer  like  yourself.  Had  he  been 
living,  you  two  might  have  become  friends. 

Sveinungi  (interrupting}.  The  only  thing  I  know  about 
you  is  that  you  go  about  picking  up  stones  like  the  children. 

S0hi.  You  speak  slightingly  of  my  stones,  but  the  know- 
ledge I  gain  from  them  can  bring  me  more  money  than  you 
ever  made  on  your  farm,  and  it  can  bring  me  fame. 

Sveinungi.  What  kind  of  knowledge  is  that  ? 

Selvi.  Those  stones'  teach  me  to  know  my  country  and 
how  it  has  been  built  by  fire  and  water  and  ice.  They  give 
me  an  opportunity  of  finding  out  new  links  in  laws  that  are 
eternal  and  mightier  than  all  mankind. 

Sveinungi.  Indeed!  Since  you  are  so  passing  wise,  you 
ought  to  have  told  me  days  ago  that  a  great  earthquake 
would  come  to-night.  "^That  I  could  have  understood;  but 
it  seems  that  you  knew  as  little  there  as  the  rest  of  us.  I 
believe  old  Jakobina  is  wiser  than  you. 

S0lvi.  I  don't  know  how  wise  she  is,  but  I  do  know  of 
people  who  go  through  life  as  if  they  were  blind.  They  may 
have  been  living  in  the  same  place  all  their  lives,  and  yet 
they  have  never  seen  the  landscape  they  live  with — neither 
its  beauty  nor  its  peculiar  character. 

Sveinungi.  They  have  n't?  (Points  toward  the  "hraun."} 
I  have  been  out  there  in  a  snowstorm  so  heavy  that  I  could 
scarcely  see  a  hand  before  me,  and  shall  I  tell  you  how  I 
found  my  way  ?  I  knew  where  I  was  by  feeling  before  me 
with  my  hands.  (Laughs.^  No,  I  have  never  seen  the  hraun! 


ACT  THIRD  125 

S0lvi.  I  did  not  say  that  you  were  among  the  blind,  and 
I  am  sure  you  are  human  enough  not  to  force  your  daughter 
to  marry  against  her  will.  It  would  not  give  you  much  joy 
to  feel  that  you  had  made  her  unhappy  for  her  whole  life. 
If  you  think  you  do  not  know  me  well  enough,  you  can 
find  out  all  you  wish  from  myself  or  from  others. 

Sveinungi.  I  have  no  desire  to  learn  anything  about  you, 
and  you  need  not  worry  about  my  daughter.  She  will  stay 
here  with  me. 

S0lvi.  Ljot  is  not  a  child  any  longer.  She  can  decide  for 
herself. 

Sveinungi.  Perhaps  you  think  she  can't  live  without  you. 
(To  Ljot.}  If  you  care  as  much  for  him  as  he  imagines,  I 
will  let  you  prove  it.  I  will  let  you  choose  between  him  and 
me.  If  you  choose  him,  then  I  have  no  daughter  any  more. 

Ljot.  You  don't  mean  to  force  me  to  such  a  choice! 

Sveinungi.  Can  you  for  a  single  moment  be  in  doubt  about 
whom  to  choose  of  us  two  —  him  or  your  old  father? 

Ljot  (kneeling}.  He  is  so  unutterably  dear  to  me. 

Sveinungi.  Get  up !  I  don't  want  to  see  you  lying  like  a 
dog  at  my  feet. 

Ljot  (rising).  Then  you  have  no  daughter. 

S0lvi.  I  knew  you  would  not  fail  me! 

Jorunn.  You  had  better  give  your  consent,  Sveinungi, 
since  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  I  cannot  do  without  my  only 
child. 

Sveinungi  (goes  to  Ljot}.  You  are  quite  free,  Ljot.;  I  will 
not  try  to  force  you,  but  when  you  have  thought  it  over, 
you  will  not  leave  your  father  and  mother  for  the  sake  of 
a  stranger.  You  are  my  only  child,  and  you  have  been  the 
liti;ht  of  my  eyes  since  you  were  a  little  tot.  When  I  came 
home  from  work  I  was  never  too  tired  to  listen  to  what 


126  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

you  had  to  say.  When  you  stroked  my  cheek  it  was  like 
warm  summer  rain  falling  on  my  face.  It  will  be  lonely 
and  empty  here  if  you  go.  You  cannot  do  it. 

Ljot.  Father,  it  is  you  who  drive  me  away. 

Sveinungi.  You  must  listen  to  me.  It  has  always  been 
my  intention  that  you  should  take  the  farm,  and  yester- 
day when  you  promised  to  marry  Halfdan  it  seemed  to  me 
that  all  my  wishes  had  been  fulfilled.  I  was  happy,  and  not 
only  for  your  sake,  but  fully  as  much  for  the  farm.  Yet 
you  would  leave  it  now  in  the  midst  of  misfortune.  Look 
about  you!  Not  a  single  building  is  standing.  Can  you  let 
your  old  father  sit  here  alone  and  forsaken?  You  might 
as  well  kill  your  father.  And  for  whom  should  I  build  it  up 
again  if  you  are  not  to  have  it?  It  might  as  well  be  left  to 
rot  on  the  ground. 

Ljot.  You  don't  know,  father,  how  much  I  care  for  him. 
I  used  to  dream  often  that  the  mountains  fell  so  that  I 
could  see  the  land  beyond.  To-night  it  seemed  to  me  that 
the  mountains  fell. 

Sveinungi.  You  are  a  wilful  girl.  (To  S0lvi.)  Could  you 
think  of  taking  over  my  farm,  perhaps? 

S0lvi.  I  could  not  — 

Sveinungi  (interrupting).  Do  you  two  believe  that  you  can 
cow  me?  (Pointing  to  the  ruins.)  There  is  a  chest  of  drawers 
in  there  that  Ljot  keeps  her  clothes  in.  I  will  have  nothing 
of  hers  in  my  house.  (To  S0/vi.)  Will  you  go  in  there  with 
me  and  bring  it  out? 

S0lvi.  I  have  nothing  to  do  in  there. 

Sveinungi.  You  can  go,  Ljot.  I  can't  bear  to  see  you. 
(Goes  over  to  the  ruins;  stands  resting  his  hands  on  the  ivalls.) 

S0lvi  (takes  Ljot  by  the  hand  quietly].  It  is  better  that  we 
leave  your  parents  alone  for  a  little  while.  [ Exeunt. 


ACT  THIRD  127 

Jorunn.  You  will  have  to  give  your  consent,  Sveinungi. 
You  say  yourself  that  all  you  have  done  has  been  for  your 
daughter. 

Sveinungi  (turns  to  Jorunn,  passing  his  earth-stained  hand 
over  his  forehead').  Did  you  understand  what  I  was  about 
to  do?  I  wanted  to  get  him  into  the  ruins,  and  then  I 
meant  to  give  the  post  a  shove. 

Jorunn.  God  forgive  you,  man ! 

Sveinungi.  Now  we  two  must  hold  together.  If  we  two 
are  of  one  mind,  I  believe  Ljot  will  give  in.  You  must  try 
to  bring  her  to  her  senses. 

Jorunn.  They  are  very  fond  of  each  other.  It  warmed 
my  heart  to  see  them.  It  brought  back  the  days  of  my  own 
youth.  I  feel  sure  it  would  be  a  sin  to  try  to  part  those  two. 

Sveinungi.  And  you  say  that ! 

Jorunn.  I  think  it  was  her  fate  to  meet  this  man.  She 
has  always  been  a  good  and  dutiful  daughter. 

Sveinungi.  And  it  was  you  who  went  with  me  into  the 
house!  Have  you  turned  against  me — you  too? 

Jorunn  (goes  to  him").  You  must  not  make  the  evil  worse 
than  it  really  is.  The  man  looks  as  if  he  came  of  good 
people,  and  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  he  is  a 
capable  man.  Even  if  we  can't  keep  Ljot  here,  as  we  had 
hoped  to  do,  she  will  certainly  find  time  to  come  and  see  us 
once  in  a  while,  and  we  shall  have  that  to  look  forward  to. 

Sveinungi.  You  think  only  of  your  daughter.  It  is  noth- 
ing to  you  if  my  life-work  is  wasted.  I  could  name  you 
many  farms  that  have  been  an  ornament  to  the  neighbor- 
hood as  long  as  they  have  been  handed  down  from  man 
to  man  in  the  same  family,  but  once  they  have  passed  into 
other  hands,  they  have  been  tended  in  a  makeshift  way  or 
left  to  sjo  to  rack  and  ruin  altogether.  You  have  seen  those 


128  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

old  forlorn  places,  where  the  site  is  overgrown  with  grass, 
and  the  heather  has  been  allowed  to  spread  all  over  the 
yard.  They  remind  me  of  graves.  I  tell  you  the  truth:  if 
such  a  fate  were  in  store  for  my  farm,  I  should  wish  for 
nothing  but  to  be  lying  under  the  ruins  myself. 

Jorunn.  Who  says  that  your  farm  will  not  be  rebuilt! 
You  are  not  so  old  that  you  cannot  do  it  without  help.  If 
I  know  you  rightly,  you  always  grow  younger  and  stronger 
whenever  there  is  anything  that  needs  all  your  powers.  In 
a  year  or  two  you  will  have  the  buildings  up  again  every 
bit  as  fine  as  before. 

Sveinungi.  Spare  your  wheedling!  What  would  be  the 
use,  even  though  I  got  the  houses  up  again?  When  my 
days  are  over,  everything  will  pass  into  the  hands  of  care- 
less people.  And  to  think  that  this  should  happen  only 
because  of  a  fleeting  fancy! 

Jorunn.  Did  it  seem  to  you  like  a  passing  whim  when 
Ljot  was  begging  for  your  consent?  To  me  it  seemed  that 
she  was  pleading  for  her  life. 

Sveinungi.  Even  though  this  should  mean  more  to  my 
daughter  than  I  think  it  does,  that  can  alter  nothing.  It 
is  my  right  to  care  for  my  home  and  keep  it  intact  even 
after  I  am  gone.  When  I  am  standing  out  in  the  hraun  and 
looking  toward  home,  the  green  yard  looks  like  a  spot  of 
sunshine. 

Jorunn.  You  take  it  for  granted  that  none  of  your  kin 
will  ever  reap  the  benefit  of  your  work,  but  your  daughter 
is  not  dead,  though  she  has  chosen  another  man  than  the 
one  you  wanted  her  to  marry.  Why  should  not  those  two 
have  children  ?  They  are  both  strong  and  healthy,  and 
there  is,  after  all,  a  chance  that  some  day  one  of  their  sons 
may  take  over  the  farm. 


ACT  THIRD  129 

Sveinungi.  I  dare  say  a  son  of  his  would  be  the  right  man  ! 

Jorunn.  A  daughter's  son  is  often  more  like  his  grand- 
father than  his  father.  You  know  that  as  well  as  I. 

Sveinungi.  You  are  like  a  child  playing  with  soap-bub- 
bles. When  one  breaks,  you  are  straightway  ready  to  blow 
a  new  one.  You  can't  make  me  play  at  that  game.  Even 
though  they  should  have  children,  do  I  know  how  they 
would  turn  out?  And  you  see  it  the  same  way  yourself, 
but  you  are  trying  to  fool  me  into  giving  my  consent. 

Jorunn.  What  do  you  gain  even  if  you  have  your  way 
and  part  those  two?  You  may  bring  it  about  that  your 
daughter  becomes  one  of  those  sour  old  maids;  for  you 
cannot  mean  to  drag  her  to  the  altar  against  her  will. 

Sveinungi.  I  did  n't  expect  you  to  be  against  me.  You 
would  n't  mind  leaving  the  farm,  if  you  could  live  with  your 
daughter.  You  care  more  for  her  than  for  me. 

"Jorunn  (her  voice  growing  husky}.  Why  do  you  say  this, 
Sveinungi?  I  have  never  weighed  my  feelings  for  you  two, 
nor  do  I  intend  to  do  it.  I  only  know  that  where  you  are, 
there  I  stay  too. 

Sveinungi.  Even  this  very  earth  upon  my  hand  is  dear  to 
me.  I  care  for  it  as  the  old  house-leek  would  if  she  could 
feel.  As  for  the  young  man  whom  you  think  so  much  of,  I 
should  have  grudged  him  even  to  have  the  earth  fall  on 
his  face.  But  you  were  not  born  here,  as  I  was.  You  have 
not  lived  here  as  a  child.  You  are  an  outsider. 

Jorunn.  Am  I  an  outsider!  I  am  grown  too  old  to  kneel 
before  you  as  your  daughter  did,  but  if  you  send  her  away, 
I  know  that  even  though  you  build  your  house  both  larger 
and  finer,  the  room  will  seem  less  light  to  me,  and  the 
smile  will  be  gone  from  my  face.  Can  you  not  spare  me 
the  sorrow  of  losing  my  only  child  ? 


130  THE  HRAUN  FARM 

Sveinungi.  I  thought  you  knew  me  well  enough  not  to 
tease  me  with  bootless  prayers.  What  I  have  said  stands. 

Jorunn.  I  don't  know  what  gives  you  the  right  to  be  so 
heartless.  You  were  tempting  God  when  you  went  into  the 
house,  but  He  had  mercy  on  you  and  spared  your  life,  and 
the  very  first  thing  you  do  is  an  act  of  cruelty.  (Bursts  out 
sobbing.} 

Sveinungi.  Don't  take  to  crying,  wife. 

Jorunn  (weeping;  sits  down  on  one  of  the  stones  that  have 
been  torn  from  the  wall  by  the  earthquake}.  I  don't  see  how 
I  am  going  to  live  through  it  if  you  send  her  away. 

Sveinungi  (stands  puzzled  for  a  moment,  then  goes  to  her}. 
I  understand  that  you  take  this  very  much  to  heart.  Do  go 
into  the  tent  now  and  lie  down.  We  must  try  to  get  over 
this  as  best  we  can. 

Jorunn  (rising}.  I  am  sure  I  have  lost  my  daughter  for- 
ever. (Weeps.} 

Sveinungi  (takes  her  hands  and  kisses  her  on  the  cheek}.  I 
have  always  said  good  night  to  you  with  a  kiss.  You  have 
been  a  good  wife  to  me.  I  little  thought,  when  you  went 
with  me  into  the  house,  that  you  should  cry  yourself  to  sleep 
this  very  night  because  of  me.  (Jorunn  clings  to  him,  weep- 
ing. Sveinungi  releases  himself  suddenly.}  Listen  to  what  I 
say.  You  shall  not  leave  me  this  way.  Now  you  can  go 
to  the  young  folks  and  tell  them  that  I  give  my  consent. 
(Moves  a  little  away.}  But  it  will  be  on  one  strict  condi- 
tion. (Jorunn  wipes  her  eyes  on  her  apron.}  They  must  prom- 
ise me  that  if  they  have  a  son,  he  shall  be  brought  up  here 
with  us. 

Jorunn  (her  face  lighting  up}.  I  believe  this  thought  was 
sent  you  by  Him  who  showed  mercy  upon  you  this  night. 

Sveinungi.  Even  if  it  should  be  their  only  child.  (Goes 


ACT  THIRD  131 

to  Jorunn.}  And  you  can  tell  them  that  it  is  only  for  your 
sake  I  yield.  Now  you  won't  cry  any  more? 

Jorunn.  God  bless  you !  How  happy  Ljot  will  be !  (  Turns 
to  go.} 

Sveinungi.  You  need  n't  be  in  such  a  hurry.  I  don't  care 
to  have  the  young  folks  see  that  you  have  been  crying. 
And  one  thing  more;  S01vi  must  not  come  here  until  I 
send  him  word.  I  want  to  explain  to  my  old  friend  how 
all  this  has  come  about. 

'Jorunn.  S01vi  will  understand.  (Sits  down,  'very  still,  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap, gazing  straight  before  her.}  And  the  boy 
is  to  be  named  Sveinungi.  (  Unconsciously  she  passes  her  right 
hand  back  and  forth  over  the  edge  of  the  stones.} 

Sveinungi.  Yes,  they  can  well  be  used  again,  the  old 
stones.  Now  you  had  better  go  to  Ljot. 

'Jorunn  (rising,  pats  his  arm}.  Yes,  yes,  I  am  going,  and 

I  am  happy.  [Exit. 

(Sveinungi  stands  for  a  moment  looking  after  her,  then  bends 

down  over  the  stones,  examining  them  closely.  He  turns  over 

one  stone — and  one  more  — 


Karl's  Song 


p^ 


Far       in    the  hills    I     wandered;  soft-ly    shone  the  summer 


night,  And  the  sun  had  ne'er  a  thought  of  sleep-ing.        Now 


J    J' 


I    bring  my     sweetheart  dear     the        hid  -  den   trea  -  sure 


>ij 


bright,         For    faith-ful-ly     my    vows   I  would  be     keep-ing. 


Heigh,  ho  !  New  and  fine  my    stockings    are,    new  and  fine  my 


' 


JO  J* 


shoes,        And     not    a  care    in       all  the  world  to  plague  me  ! 


Icelandic  Folk  Melody 


Sweet  -  ly     sleep,   my      dear  young         love,       Out  -  side      rain      is 

o  r\ 


fall       -        ing,  Moth  -  t-r      safe    -    ly         away    will          stow 


/c\ 


Horse   and       sheep      and       swan      and  dove.  Then     we'll 

O 


4?=* 

H 

l 

=r^=f= 

^N 

rest,       we         two,       for       night       is  call 


Icelandic  Folk  Melody 


"J  J  J  j  I JJ  J    r  t 

- — »" 


Have  you  seen     a  brave    young   lad?  "T  is  my  friend, 


^ 


Dearest  friend; 'Mongst  all  men  in     byr-nie  clad  The     bon-ni-est    is 


6  1  .1   - 

r  r  r  r 

r  r  j  j 

he.  I  have  smiled  my  teeth  all  white  and     shin     -     ing, 


Mr  r  r  r  I- 


I  have  smiled  my  teeth  all  white  and     shin  -  ing   with     glc 


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